Surviving Stephanie
by Delirium's Child
Summary: Waking up in someone else's life might not be all it's cracked up to be... Especially if the life you wake up in is that of Stephanie Plum. Complete.
1. Default Chapter

**_Surviving Stephanie_**

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_Note:_ I'm not sure I'll continue with this one but in my defense I did start it to try to answer a challenge. This is all Sarah's fault for posing the eternal question: "Do you think we fans would actually survive one of these books?" and then begging until I wrote something about it. Actually I have another beginning... hm. I don't know. I think I'll keep this one for now.

_Disclaimer:_ Janet Evanovich wrote and owns Stephanie Plum. The following is a free, not for profit fan fiction brought to you by Boredom.

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My name is Alyssa Chase, I'm a twenty-one-year-old Marketing major at Missouri Western State College in St. Joseph, Missouri. I'm from Missouri. I've lived there all my life and I have never once been to New Jersey. I am not engaged. I am not thirty. I am not to be called Cupcake. And I am NOT named Stephanie. Oh yeah, and I'm also not a bounty hunter. But here I am, in a hospital bed, surrounded by a bunch of people with New Jersey accents who seem to believe otherwise and keep calling me Stephanie.

Like anyone is still named Stephanie. I went to grade school with a whole pack of them, but somewhere they all disappeared. We graduated with a pack of Jessicas and a few Ashleys though. Like they just took all the Stephanies away one night and replaced them. Ick. That's a freakish thought. Almost as freakish as me being here at all. Almost as freakish as-- as the group of people surrounding me.

Some old lady in a purple velour jogging suit with matching hair. Another older lady who looks like June Cleaver in the later years, an older guy who looks like Tony Danza in three more decades were standing on one side beside a pudgy woman with a Meg Ryan haircut Meg Ryan hasn't seen in years. On the other side was a very hot Italian guy with a badge discreetly shining on his belt. I had the feeling he'd have been a lot hotter if he hadn't been lecturing like a pissed of criminal justice professor.

I shook my head as the Italian guy kept ranting and calling me "Cupcake." I don't like pet names. I can handle "sunshine" or "sweetheart," maybe the occasional "baby," but "cupcake" is pushing it, even on a good day when I've had caffeine and a shower and a possible nervous breakdown wasn't involved. Today wasn't one of those days.

June Cleaver was chiming in too, griping about my job (I don't have one, lady) and how I apparently kept trying to get myself killed, which the cop seemed to agree with. All of this I wasn't awake enough to truly worry about though- what I was hung up on was their accents: New Jersey ones. Atrocious, drive-a-nail-through-my-ear New Jersey accents that were grating on my sensitive, hung-over senses. Bleck.

Okay, the question is now, who put what in my drink? I knew there was a reason they told you to say no to drugs, but this is ridiculous. The only explanation I can come up with here is that I got really drunk last night and hitched a ride to--- hang on a minute. My hair's brown.

I snagged a curl and pulled it in front of my face. Yup, a curl. My hair is brown and curly... and it needs a trim. Look at those split ends! Wouldn't be any biggy if it weren't for the small fact that last time I checked I'd died it blonde and had it all cute and flippy. And shorter. Lots shorter. _Inches_ shorter... Of course, looking at my hair brought my hand into view. My very white, pasty pale, and manicured hand. Fake nails? I don't do fake nails. No one does fake nails unless there's a formal and a corsage involved. And what the hell happened to my tan? I just stared at the hand holding the lock of hair, lost in the dawning horror of the moment.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Stephanie?" June demanded. I blinked at her. What was she yelling about? Hm, oops. I looked to Old Tony and the Meg impersonator but they apparently knew better than to interrupt the rampaging housewife... The granny lady gave me a sympathetic look, but stayed quiet. No help there. I looked back at June and the cop, then down at the hand that wasn't mine holding hair I knew wasn't mine.

"I am never drinking again," I said, meaning every word. God, I had the accent too. I sound like a Yankee! My inner Scarlett was sobbing now. My Southern ancestors were rolling in their graves. I want my mommy. I want my hair and my tan and my twenties back. I want a dialogue coach.

The cop was giving me a Look. Guess that wasn't the right answer.

"Why I never!" shrieked June. "You were drinking last night?" she sounded shocked. Come on, lady, it's homecoming! Who in this town doesn't spend this week plastered? "You and those friends of yours, boozing it up and you try to arrest some one..."

My eyes widened at that part. Arrest someone? Me? Shit, we weren't acting out _Varsity Blues_ again were we?

That would explain the pissed off cop though...

"Did I steal your car?" I asked him, not sure I wanted to hear the answer. June's jaw dropped open.

"You stole Joseph's car again? Why me!" She looked ready to go into hysterics. "Edina's daughter never steals cars! Carla Martucci's daughter doesn't go drinking and steal cars! Oh no! I'm the one whos daughter blows up funeral parlors and goes on crime sprees!" She threw her hands up and stomped out of the room. The Meg impersonator shot me a baleful glare and took off after her, the arm chair quarterback following them.

Wait a minute. Funeral parlor? There's only one funeral parlor I ever heard of being blown up, and that was in a book. A fictional book... And Joseph the cop? The Italian Joseph... from Jersey. No way. Nope. Not possible. Not going there.

"You know, Stephanie," Grandma Violet said, "You get to have all the fun. I wish I got to go stealing police cars!" I had to grin at her. Damn, I wish my grandma had her sense of fun!

"Next time we go bar hopping, I'll give you a call." She'd make a great frat boy repellent. The old lady smiled widely, like I just made her day.

"I'm holding you to that!" she cackled. "Now I'm going to go see your mother. Don't worry about her, she just doesn't know how to have fun." And the old lady turned and scampered off. Heh, I like her.

"You shouldn't encourage her," Joseph Cop said, pulling my attention back to him. Guh, he was way too hot for his own good.

"Why not? She's cool."

"She's a menace." Hey, buster. You might be hot, but that's my new idol you're insulting. I glared at him.

"Excuse me?"

He sighed. "I know you love her, but Cupcake, your grandmother is scary. She's still got that gun in her purse."

Sweet, Granny Violet packs heat! I don't know who she is (unless that unsettling idea creeping up on me is right), but she is so my idol.

"That rocks!" I said, laughing. "Beats the crap out of that can of pepper spray I've got."

The cop frowned at that. "You know, if you'd carry your gun--" Gun? Moi? I can't shoot! I guess my expression upset him because he took a deep breath like he was trying not to lecture again. "You need to get a new job, Cupcake." And we're back to this.

"I'll take that under consideration." I nodded to seal the deal. Just humor him until I can get out of here, get home, and get a hair appointment. He was giving me a funny look.

"You aren't mad?"

"Huh? So you don't like my-" uh oh. Wait a second. If I'm supposed to be who I think he thinks I am then I should be launching into a tirade. And if he finds out I'm not the person he thinks I am, if he's the person I think he is, then he's going to be really difficult... "Look, Joseph," I said, letting my irritation with the whole thing show, "I have a pounding hangover, I'm nauseous, and I just want out of this hospital gown so I can get a shower and caffeine and aspirin. Lots of aspirin."

This eased his expression into a smile. "All right. Let's get out of here then," he offered me a hand to help me out of bed.

"That's it?" I asked in disbelief. "What am I even here for if I can just go home?" He winked.

"I promised the doctor I'd keep an eye on you myself," he said, with a very sexy look in his eyes. Somehow I just knew he was thinking about naked horizontal sorts of things. Great, but I'd like to know your name first, dude.

"Umm... " I stared at him, trying to think a way out of this one. Just go away and let me call a cab, damn it. Or let me wake up for real, because I'm starting to think you really are the fictional hallucination...

"You don't remember last night at all, do you?" Joseph asked, his eyes looking suddenly very calculating. Uh oh. Deep breath. Don't think about what you're thinking about. Don't think about the possibility you just woke up in a fictional hallucination.

"Nope. Look, if I stole your car, I'm really sorry ok? I'm sure there was a really good reason." Like acting out a vapid teen movie by riding around naked playing with handcuffs... Damn you Jack Daniels. If I go to jail for that I want to remember it. I smiled at him, trying to look apologetic.

"You didn't steal my car," he chuckled. "Look, the doctor said there might be some short term memory loss- you hit your head pretty hard on the way down."

"Way down?" I asked as he pulled me to my feet. Yipes. Cold floor.

"You fell down the stairs at the club chasing that skip." Skip? SKIP? Oh holy hell, batman. "You wouldn't have been here at all except that you were unconscious after Lula landed on you."

LULA? My mind was screaming. Lula. Skips. Connie. Joseph. Jersey accents. Funky granny with a gun. Stephanie. Italian guy with a badge. Sniping maternal type. Silent arm-chair-quarterback paternal type. Dyed blond shag-topped sister type.

Sweet Mother of God. I stared up at Joseph the Italian Cop from Jersey, taking in the chiseled features, the scar through the left eyebrow, the dark hair, the really sexy chocolate eyes.

"_Morelli.._."

The chocolate eyes were looking much more yummy suddenly. "Yeah, Cupcake?" he asked, his voice going very husky. His hands were on my waist, warm and solid, holding me steady as I rode out the wave of dizziness. I closed my eyes as he pulled me a little bit closer. He felt so real. I could even smell him- he was wearing Drakkar. It really worked for him. The whole package was making me think really, really NC17 thoughts.

Too bad he was named Joseph Morelli and was therefore imaginary.

Oh god. I was having one of those hideous Romance Novel Body Switch experiences. Probably I was in a coma. Probably I had overstressed about that last hellish Medieval History test and I was having a psychotic episode. I knew those essay tests were going to kill me. I knew it. And I was going to wake up any moment now in a padded room with a guy in a white coat who happened to wear Drakkar.

"Don't call me that," the words spilled out before I even realized I meant to say them.

"What?" He stiffened, leaning away from me, those lovely brown eyes suddenly confused.

"Cupcake. Quit calling me Cupcake," I said, taking a deep breath. Good, let's do this right. I'm not Stephanie and you're not real. No need to get carried away and do something stupid. "Just tell me what you're charging me with and how I'm getting home." Without you. I don't have sex with figments of my imagination. No matter how really sexy they are.

The confusion was being replaced with hurt. "Stephanie, you're not under arrest." His voice was quiet, and sounded like the one my ex used to get when I'd just said something really bitchy without meaning to. I felt a pang of guilt for being mean to him (Morelli, not the ex. The ex can go to hell).

"Oh, okay then." I gave him a pathetically fake smile. "How about home then?" His eyes were studying me carefully- he was trying to figure out what was wrong. Hah, go right ahead RoboCop. You aren't going to get this one in a million years.

"I told you, you're staying with me. Doc's orders."

"Fine," I said, giving up. "But can we snag some advil or something somewhere?"

"Yeah, Cu- Stephanie. McDonald's for lunch even."

McDonald's? Ick. I hate McDonald's. But it is good for a hangover. "Okay."

While Morelli left to go get everything sorted out with the doctors, I set about getting dressed. Well, I wouldn't call it dressed exactly. Looks like Stephanie was either partying last night or she channeled the soul of Fran Drescher because he scrap of navy blue spandex I was wriggling into was something I had only seen on The Nanny or maybe Bridget Jones. Looking in the mirror I was leaning more toward the Bridget Jones idea. Eeek. Someone get this girl a treadmill!

And she was a bounty hunter? The mind boggled. Crap- what was I talking about. She wasn't the bounty hunter now. I was the bounty hunter. I looked at the reflection staring back at me from mirror over the sink. Blue eyes, pale skin, curly brown hair. That wasn't me. That was Stephanie Plum, fictional Bombshell Bounty Hunter, fiancee of equally fictional Vice Cop Joe Morelli.

I closed my eyes to escape the visual. Don't Panic, I repeated to myself over and over. I took a deep breath and pictured calming blue light washing away the icky red of anxiety and confusion. I focused my attention on my head chakra to begin with and took a few moments at each of the other six to relax myself.

It worked, like it always did. I'm not sure it's the chakra points or the simple act of taking the time to calm down but it helps. Now I was ready to face my memories of the night before. Start at the beginning and search for anything to help me get out of my hallucination. Or zapped back into my own body. Which ever.

Okay, let's think The Griffins won the game, we went out to celebrate. And we did. I smiled at the memories replaying through my head. No one would ever call my friends boring, that was for sure. So far so normal, though. Bar hopping, party hopping, lots of drinks, the cages at Lucky's, a bar top dance at Molly's...

I remembered the walk back, calling for pizza. The pizza guy got there and we went down-- oh shit. No we didn't. We _started_ to go down. I could almost see those old wavy lines for a flashback coming up in my head as I recalled Chelsea, Renee, and I skipping our merrily inebriated way down the hall to the stairs. I should have realized what could happen. I really should have. But there's something so relaxing about acting like stupid drunken ten-year-olds with your best friends. I didn't even think of the possibilities until we hit the stairs.

Chelsea was still hammered and she was in Fuck Me heels.

I was still in my Fuck Me boots. I was just as hammered.

Renee wasn't quite as plastered, but she was drunk. In fuzzy bunny slippers.

Three drunken girls, two pairs of Fuck Me shoes, and one pair of fuzzy slippers. Have you ever heard a more absurd recipe for disaster?

We made it down the first three steps before Chelsea over balanced and grabbed onto me for support, sending me lurching forward. Renee tried to grab both of us, but her fuzzy slippers weren't exactly the non-skid kind and she started to fall with me, while she still had a hold on Chelsea's arm.

I had the sickening realization of what was happening, caught a flash of the institutional green paint on the stairs, and the lights went off. Now here I am, just as bumped and bruised but in someone else's body. In someone else's life. And not just someone else, oh no, I'm someone else in a fictional universe created by a former romance novelist.

I sat back down on the bed and buried my face in my hands. As my darling friend Chelsea would say: _Bloody Hell_. This was going to be a long day. Before I could work myself into a nice therapeutic crying jag, Morelli came back with a nurse. Time to sign some papers and get on with this farce.

I picked up the pen and signed it, making damn sure I signed it with the right name: Stephanie Plum.

The nurse smiled stiffly and said I was free to go. I got the feeling she didn't approve of my outfit. Huh, she wasn't the only one. I like spandex, I like sequins, but not in the same space.

Morelli on the other hand seemed to be very appreciative. His hand kept trying to wander south. When that attempt failed it started trying to wander north. Good god, the guy didn't take a hint... Finally I grabbed the meandering appendage and held it to my waist. Yeah, yeah, I know- he's totally sexy and all, but I prefer it when the hot guy groping me knows my damn name, okay? I mean, it's kind of icky to be getting all heavy-petting with some guy who thinks you're someone else. Morelli looked at me sideways, a little smirky, but was wise enough not to make a comment.

We were halfway to the red SUV he was aiming us toward when he finally spoke. "Since when are you left handed, Cupcake?" He was watching me closely now, with a really weird look on his face.

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dislaimer:** Janet's characters are her own, and Alyssa's personality is... Um, a composite kind of thing. She might get a little bitchy in here, but then we think she's entitled to a little resourceful bitchiness. The poor girl's stressed. We are thinking she has been dropped into one of the books b/c my team of advisors and I really can't think up a good plot for 11, and anyway, we will find it amusing to screw with Janet's plot lines by having an immature party-obsessed co-ed running amok. Look out Joe, look out Ranger, and hide the Merry Men...

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**Surviving Stephanie: Chapter 2**

Who the hell made up that Stephanie was right-handed? Damn you, Janet! What's with this society-wide bias against southpaws? I breathed deeply and looked squarely at the ground. Don't Panic, I thought at myself. What would Monica and Rachel do?

Of course. So simple, so cliché... Theater training don't fail me now.

"Ex-_cuse_ me, Morelli?" I said, stopping dead in my tracks and turning on him with the fiercest glare I could muster. Morelli stopped too, clearly unsure as to what he had said to get the reaction.

"Steph, you just signed that form left-handed-"

"I heard you the first time!" I said, throwing my hands up in a full-fledged tantrum. "Did you or did you not ask me to marry you?"

He blinked, staring at me with a mixture of shock and dawning male horror. "You know I-"

"How could you?" I demanded, looking wounded. I may not be a bounty hunter, but damned if all my years in theater weren't about to pay off.

"How could I-"

"You don't want to marry me, do you?" I gasped, my eyes widening in shock. "You don't give a damn about that, you just want sex! I'm a _sex toy _to you!" I ranted, knowing full well I as making a horrible scene in the middle of the parking lot. Several nurses, doctors, even a security guard had showed up. I let a couple tears start falling for good measure.

Morelli's eyes were going from shocked to angry until he saw the tears. Instant deer in the headlights. "Please, Cupcake, I didn't mean it. What did I say-" I stepped backward, narrowing my eyes. Shit, he had that puppy dog look down pat. But I wasn't giving in. I had my own sanity to salvage here.

Besides, he'd probably think it was weird if Stephanie just randomly started avoiding him like the plague. This gave him a reason. See, I'm actually being really nice. Shut up.

"You mean you don't know?" I hissed at him. I crossed my arms and turned to leave. "Fine. Figure it out on your own. Just take me home." I stalked off to the car without a backward glance.

He walked after me, at a much less enthusiastic pace. I just waited for him to beep the doors open and climbed in. Not looking at him, nope, not looking. Can't risk the puppy dog eyes again. Oh, look a purse on the floorboard. A massive black Coach purse. Yick. I glared at it.

Damn it I was still crying. I hate that. When you're cheering up but the tear ducts have apparently put in overtime, you know? Trying to cheer myself up I picked up the purse and started rifling through it. Oh, all kinds of nifty things to be had in the ugly black purse.

There were handcuffs, a stun gun, some batteries, a bottle of self-defense spray, and a wallet. Ooh, wallet. Money? Nope. No cash. Well this identity bites. But there is a Macy's card. Hmm, maybe not so bitey after all. Unless she's currently maxed out? I remember somehow that she does that a lot.

Okay, after I get a gym membership, a hair cut, a speech therapist, and figure out this bounty hunting stuff I'm setting this girl up with a financial advisor.

"Cupcake," Joe said tentatively as we pulled out of the parking lot, "I'm sorry." I turned to stare at him. Like when one of the monkeys at the zoo picks up a keyboard and starts playing the national anthem, that kind of stare.

Yipes, he's apologizing! What the hell, dude? You're a guy. Guys don't apologize! Not for like a week, anyway or until they want to get laid. You can't need to get laid right now and I need that week. Janet, I am writing you a letter of protest when I get back. Writing a male who'd apologize... I thought fast. Think of Rachel, Think of Rachel...

"Apology accepted, Joseph," my voice was stiff, and a little teary. "But I think you missed the point. And I think I mentioned my feelings toward being called a pastry."

"You always liked me calling you that. Remember?" Oh, yeah. I remember a scene about that now... I sighed. I really am like Stephanie, but there are just these minor things. Like handedness, and terms of endearment.

"Look, Joe," I said, trying desperately to think more in-character. "I did, okay? But it's just--" I shrugged, trying to explain myself. "It makes me feel like you don't take me seriously. I'm just some kind of after school snack or something." I glanced over at him as he opened his mouth to put in some sexual innuendo. "Don'!" I said sharply. My own imagination was putting in enough mental images, thanks. "It's demeaning, okay? It relegates me to some inconsequential role, when as your significant other I should be much more than that. Healthy relationships are built on mutual trust, respect and-"

"You've been watching Dr. Phil again, haven't you? And what's with all the big words?"

Oh, Hell. No. Your sexiness quotient just dropped. This time the glare I shot him was real and very ego-felt.

"This is what I'm talking about Joe. I don't rely on some stupid daytime tv show to get a vocabulary." Um, okay, I think maybe Stephanie does, but screw that. "There is more to me than your favorite snack food slash fuck buddy."

He looked sheepish after that tirade, for about half a second. "You're right, Steph. You are smart. You just aren't acting like yourself." Hey, you finally noticed! "Did they give you some sort of bad news at the hospital?"

"Huh?" It was my turn to stare blankly. Bad news?

Morelli looked like he was doing the mental equivalent of manning the battle stations and firing up the shields. "Are you pregnant?"

I couldn't help it, I started laughing. And not just normal laughter, this was doubled over, borderline hysterics laughter. Not a good sign for me to do something like that with a hangover. I'm very anti-humor usually.

"Shit. You are..." he muttered.

Oh my god. His fiancée gets a personality transplant so he thinks she's pregnant? Well, okay, I guess in a guy's mind it made a good excuse.

"No, Morelli," I finally gasped out between giggles. "I'm not pregnant."

You could almost see the armor plating falling away. His shoulders sagged and he rested his head back. Wow, he was even sweating. Huh, ten guesses what his worst nightmare really is. And I thought I had a family phobia.

The golden arches of Mickey D's loomed over us and he pulled in. Still getting lunch I see...

"What do you want, Steph?"

I looked at the menu. "French fries and a D-- er, a Coke." I was so proud of myself for remembering the hangover cure. And I didn't even order a diet. Okay, now if I can just remember other stuff. I pursed my lips and looked out the windows as we left McDonald's. Where were we?

Wait, Steph would know that, wouldn't she? All that normal stuff that come from living somewhere your entire life, like how to get to work, and where you live, and... Do I have a car? Bloody hell this identity theft crap is complicated. I made a production of stuffing myself with the fries. I could do this. Internet. That's what the Internet is for, right? Maps. Yes, good. I can get around. Now, just one more eency weency little insignificant detail.

Which freaking book am I in??? I never could keep them straight, you know. And there were a couple I hadn't even read in forever. Yikes. Okay, she's engaged to Morelli. That's in what? Book 5, Book six?

I think it comes... it comes before DeChooch, because she has visions of the wedding dress when she's out with Ranger...

Okay. Sigh of relief. No Slayers anytime soon. Unless... Unless I'm after book ten and they're re-engaged. And anyway, do I even want to be in the books? I mean, look what happens in the books. Abruzzi happens in the books. That schizo boxer happens in the books.

But if I'm in the book timelines and I don't play by the book rules, does that mean the series doesn't happen? Or does the series veer off and follow me? Will Janet Evanovich's astral form blast out of the spirit realm and smite me for it?

Ow. My head hurts. I want my mommy. The real one. The one who drives a sports car and goes on shopping sprees with me, who buys New Age books and reads Tarot cards and Ouija boards. She'd be able to sort out all of this parallel dimensions stuff. I was tearing up again, but this time it was for real. I want my friends. I want Chelsea, Renee, and Michelle and _A Villa in Tuscany_ and a tub of strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Why is it you never figure out what's awesome until you don't get to have it anymore?

"Stephanie?"

I looked over at Morelli, wiping my eyes. "Yeah. Sorry. The alcohol must not be out of my system yet or something."

He didn't look like he bought it, but I think he'd had enough emotional storms for one day. Belatedly I realized we had stopped moving. I looked out the window to see what for and quickly had to grit my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping. We were on a block of row houses.

Real ones. I mean, I'd never seen any up close before. I'd sort of thought they were an urban legend or something. I wasn't so sure I liked them. They just looked so cramped, and sardine-like. Not that they were dingy or anything, but well, I am a Midwestern girl with Southern routes. The mainly small town and rural kind. If you buy a house, people just don't share walls, you know? We believe firmly in side yards, even if it's a completely useless 6 inch strip, we need them. It's our bubble. We don't like not having the bubble. Hell, crack houses have the bubble, but that might just be because the other houses don't want to touch them.

At least that's my theory.

And I wanted the bubble.

I climbed out of the car and followed Joe into the house. "Look, I know you want to go home, Steph," he said as we stepped inside. Joey, you have no idea. "But I promised the doctor I'd keep you under watch for today." Well, he had a point. I didn't want to have a seizure or a further psychotic episode and not be supervised did I?

"That's fine. The guest bedroom isn't taken, right?" He just looked really tired and beat all of a sudden.

"No, it's empty," he said quietly. "But I'd really rather you left it that way..."

Aww, he was making me feel bad. It's for your own good, I told him mentally. You really wouldn't be happy if you figured out why, though.

"No," I said aloud. "I think the guest bedroom's a good idea." I looked away from him to take in my surroundings. Not bad. Not Versailles, but homey. He even had lace curtains. Hmm, a closet metrosexual?

No, wait, wasn't that something to do with a dead aunt? Ok, creepy closet metrosexual. I looked back over at Morelli and almost smiled. Nah, he didn't even believe in hair gel.

"Bob's with Eddie and Shirley," he said, interrupting my train of thought. Maybe he thought my staring around was about the absence of the famed prehistoric beast of a dog. Right, like I really wanted to meet Bob the Bulimic dog.

"Oh." Good. That was another thing I wasn't looking forward to: Doggie barf. No way in this world or any other was I cleaning up doggy ick. And on that note I ran out of anything useful to say. Such a master of conversation I am.

Joe cleared his throat awkwardly. Hm. I looked down at the dress I wasn't wearing. Ah, an excuse.

"Okay, I'm going upstairs and changing." He nodded and thankfully didn't follow me. This was a good thing on several levels, one because it put me in close proximity with him and a bed, and two because I didn't want him to know I didn't know which room was which. Kind of a good thing the house was so small, so I found the guest bedroom on the second try (the first was a closet). There was an overnight bag already on the bed. Great, she was staying with him. Peachy. I set about sorting through the contents of the bag and running over my options.

All right. So I've gone insane or I've been thrown into the plot of a bad romance novel. Or a combination of both. Although I would really like to believe that if I've gone insane my insane self could come up with a better hallucinatory self than this one. Like, oh, I don't know: Jessica Alba or that chick from Terminator 3? Pamela Anderson pre-surgery would have been good too. Nope. No such luck.

I get the pudgy thirty-year-old whose idol must be Fran Drescher.

Okay, I'm really not as silly and shallow as I'm sounding, but this is my life and I'm the one who's gone crazy so I can whine if I want to. Look, the problem is I am really body conscious. Blame it on growing up in the era of Kate Moss and heroine chic. Blame it on the media. Whatever, but looking at myself in the floor length mirror on the closet door and seeing the clothes in that bag... the clothes that apparently make up my wardrobe now. Not that the clothes are awful, but there's a roll if I button up the jeans! ... I have an urge to flop down on the bed and cry again.

Well, actually I'm fighting a distant urge to go barf up the McDonald's grilled chicken I ate for lunch. Shut up. I'm not bulimic. I never get to the throwing up part of it because I can't stand barfing. I tried not eating once, though. I didn't like that either. I get cranky when I don't get sugar. So mainly I've been forced to go the healthier route of watching what I eat and keeping up with an aerobics routine from sheer laziness. I just don't have the drive to have an eating disorder. Sad isn't it? But looking at my new thighs I had to guess this body hadn't seen the other side of a Tae-Bo routine and that wasn't a good thing. She had really long legs now that I looked at them. Billy Blanks would do wonders for legs like this.

Not that the Stephanie body is fat, or even that bad, I'm just being picky. I'm sulking because I'm not Britney Spears. I am also staying the guest bedroom of a healthy, sexy, straight guy who obviously wants to sleep with me. Well, not with me, which is why I was not sleeping with him. He wanted to sleep with Stephanie. I scrunched my nose at the reflection. Grrr. It was frustrating. So I was just going to have to work it out by thinking up torturous workout routines to keep my mind off of sex with the healthy, sexy, straight guy who really does just want me for my body even if he doesn't actually realize it.

I put on a pair of jeans and a scoop neck t-shirt and headed out to face him again. No way was I staying up here and letting him have an excuse to corner me in a bedroom because so far I've never had a sexual encounter I regret (aside from any and all sex with the ex, but that's just life). I'm also afraid that if he gets me anywhere near a set of sheets and some pillows my brain's going to short circuit and I'll forget until it's too late.

Before I headed down, though, I took the time to investigate the upstairs a little more thoroughly. The master bedroom was nice, very late bachelor pad (meaning it had actual matching furniture, sheets, and curtains) and the bathroom... Okay the bathroom was post Brady Bunch, but not too horrible. At least there were no orange fish or purple cheetah prints. The other bedroom was surviving an incarnation as a work out room. Bleh, smelled like sweaty guy. I hate that smell, it brings back memories of the football bus in high school when we cheerleaders were forced to ride with the players, which means it makes me think of testosterone-induced stupidity and Charlie Fulton trying to grab my ass. I quickly backed out of the uncomfortable room and took a deep breath of thankfully un-locker-room air.

The one thing I didn't find was a computer. Son of a monkey, it better be downstairs. As I found out, it wasn't. There was however a moody Italian. I would have preferred the computer.

I stopped just outside the kitchen when I heard Joe's voice. Hmm, either a phone call or he has some issues Janet never mentioned. I cocked my head and listened.

"So her behavior could just be a side effect?...No, thank you doctor.... It's a relief to hear...." I didn't know whether to fume or laugh. He thought my behavior was from me hitting my head. So close, and yet so far, Joe. On the other hand, this brought of the odd question: If this whole thing were my hallucination, why would he be calling my imaginary doctor?

Maybe my subconscious liked details. Whatever. I think I'm going to give up on understanding it just now. Mom always said I needed to learn to go with the flow. Well, Mama, it may have taken a force ten tsunami but I might finally be learning.

I heard him hanging up the phone and finished walking on in, yawning loudly. "Hey, Joe. Sorry I took so long." He half-smiled at that.

"No problem," he said then turned serious. "I think we need to talk, though."

Ugh. The urge to throw up that chicken was back, but it was a whole different reason. I have heard those words several times and they have never, never, never been followed by anything good. Mom used them when I came home from school to find our stuff packed up and ready to move the day she left Dad. My ex used them the day he admitted he slept with that blond bimbo. My dad used them whenever he was going to be on the road instead of coming to one of my 'things' (birthday parties, awards, plays, graduations, little stuff like that you know). I just stared now at Joe Morelli, waiting for the drop. He was having me committed. I really was pregnant. He had syphilis. The possibilities were endless.


	3. Chapter 3

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I didn't make up this world or the plot of whichever book this is in. I promise to put everything back the way I found it, except maybe for Ranger. He's probably going to be a little exhausted.

Note: Hey all, we'll get to the actual plot (and Ranger too) in the next chapter. This is sort of setting up the background mentioned at the first of the book. Which book? Not telling you yet.

RsB: LOL. How do I write so many stories? I'm not sure, I think my muse is just working overtime lately, plus I can type insanely fast. It helps.

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"I don't think you should work for a couple days."

Huh? I blinked at him, withwhat I'm sure wasthe stupidest, most vapid Jessica Simpson-like expression on my face. That can't be it, you're stalling. No one uses those words for something that minor league...

"That's fine. But what's this really about, Joe?" My thoughts were reeling as I scrambled through my brain to find anything at all helpful for what might be coming up.

"Cupcake, about the wedding... " Oh. Whew, sigh of relief. That's all? God, and here I was all freaking.

"You don't want to get married?" I couldn't help it, it came out in a rush, and sounded way too relieved. Morelli's eyebrows lowered and he looked caught somewhere between surprise and a glare. It would have been really cute and I probably would have done something really stupid like hugging and/or kissing him if I hadn't been so giddy. I had an idea. I was running with it.

"I didn't say-"

"Well, it's obvious, Joe. And it's okay. I've been thinking the same thing anyway. I was under pressure, I didn't really mean to set a date. In fact I was comfortable never setting a date in the foreseeable future, and I think that means more than any stupid date I came up with to make my family happy."

Joe looked stumped. The glare was gone, but I could tell there was a very deep confusion in him, a new tension in his broad shoulders. Whatever reaction he'd been expecting this wasn't it and he was off balance. In the back of my head, "She Took it Like a Man" began to play. Sometimes it really sucks to grow up in the Midwest- no matter how hard you try to exorcise them, old country songs will persist in your subconscious.

"You mean you don't want to get married?" he said slowly. I think maybe it was sinking in now.

"Well, maybe. Eventually. But why rush? I mean, come on," I added, smiling and taking across the table from him, "it's pretty obvious the way you feel about it."

He blinked at me. Really, guys can be so obtuse. I raised my hands, wiggling the ring fingers. I mean, seriously, even my cheating sleaze of an ex gave me a promise ring (before he became a cheating sleaze, but that's beside the point). "It's been how long, Joe?" I asked seriously, putting my hands back on the table.

"You mean you don't want to get married because you don't have a ring?" He sounded pissy. I don't understand- isn't the ring what its all about? It's sort of like a contract: the female agrees to sleep with you and clean the house in exchange for the bright shiny object, a fun trip, and possibly your credit card.

Besides, as far as I'm concerned, the ring is collateral; something to pawn for escape money come time for divorce. Probably this is very cynical of me, but since I have never met a happy married person and I have not yet developed a masochistic streak, I see no reason to guess that I will stay married. Unless my husband is gay and we're best friends with an open marriage. But I don't see that scenario happening.

Of course, I didn't see the scenario of me being dumped into someone else's life and body happening either which goes to prove that the gods are crazy and anything is possible. But I still have my doubts about happy marriages.

All of my inner struggles and possible relationship issues aside, it all still left me here, staring blankly at an Italian male whose temper was rapidly heating up. Crap, he was going to yell. I hate yelling. It's a childhood trauma kind of thing.

"I cannot believe you, Stephanie!" he said, his volume raising a notch. "You just don't want to quit your job." I winced. Nothing worse than a loud angry cop with a Jersey accent. I was actually kind of thankful for the accent though, I'm not sure I wouldn't have jumped him if it weren't for that. He was hot when he was pissed.

"Well, that too," I admitted weakly, admiring the way his brown eyes were all stormy and hot. Hmm, you know, if I just kept his mouth occupied, sex might not be so...

"You're going to get killed! Hell, that skip wasn't even armed and you nearly died just trying to chase him..." he took a deep breath.

"So? You're a vice cop," I pointed out. No need to state the obvious there: drugs, guns, lots of nasty people and as Janet kept harping that the kevlar didn't come with the badge.

"I'm trained!"

"So I'll get training."

Now his eyes narrowed and I could see the anger building up again. "From who? Ranger? Christ Stephanie he's-" Aw fuck. Not this. Come on, Joe. Don't do this to me. I don't even bloody know Ranger! "He's a mercenary. There's rumors he's into gunrunning and---"

I tuned out at that. I had heard this speech before. Well, except it wasn't about Ranger, but the general tone I had heard. This was the speech one guy gives you running down the competition. This is the Kevin-is-evil speech.

"You're jealous," I said in wonder. "Why?" I couldn't think of any reason for him to be jealous. If we were even remotely where I thought we were in the timeline (and from the lack of a burn scar on Steph's arms I thought I was right) I didn't think Ranger had done anything. In fact I was pretty sure there wouldn't even be any Ranger sex for at least a book or two.

Joe shut up and stared at me for a beat. Then we were back to the speechifying. "God damn it, you know why. The way he looks at you. There's only one thing he wants and--" It's the same thing you want, dummy. I've read the books- every three pages with you it's let's-have-sex suggestions. "Guys like that use and-" Hey, I thought you were the biggest player in the place... Oh. That's a thought.

"He's moving in on your turf, right Joe?" I said, trying desperately not to laugh. Wow, and I thought college guys were bad. "You're not the biggest player in the Burg, is this the problem?"

"Excuse me?" He was glaring and looming over me. I stood up, still grinning like an idiot. Probably I should have been all quivering, but come on, it's not every day you get to see grown thirty-year-olds pulling tricks out of the old college player hand-book. Although the 'I am the noble one, warning you away from the treacherous curr' routine is a classic.

"Well, I'm sorry, buddy but you either trust me or you don't," I said with a shrug. "And if you don't trust me it's just one more reason we shouldn't get married. I don't want to deal with the Ranger-is-evil speech every three days for the rest of my life." I don't want to deal with this accent either. If it took me a freaking week I was getting rid of the damned thing before my inner Scarlett O'hara threw her self off a bridge.

Joe took a step closer. Damn the guy was tall. And he was pissed. Uh-oh. Okay, maybe cowering was a good idea now... His arm wrapped around my waist while I pulled a pretty convincing deer in the headlights routine. "Let's talk about this upstairs," he said quietly, and I recognized the warm liquid look in his eyes. It was suggesting all sorts of naked fun. Fighting as foreplay? Um, right I don't think---

His lips met mine, and the kissing started. Just his lips against mine for a moment then his tongue traced my bottom lip and my brain completely checked out. I didn't think at all. Not once the whole time. Well, maybe I thought a little, like about who had what clothing on and how long it would take to get it all off. I thought I had known what a great kiss was, but I was sadly mistaken. This was a great kiss. Maybe there really is a reason to date older guys after all.

I wonder if there are other reasons... maybe I need to explore this, for purely academic knowledge... He pulled away and smiled down at me with a look of male satisfaction. He'd just kissed me completely senseless and he knew it.

Take me, I wanted to yell. Kitchens work for me. Let's go. But my brain and mouth weren't connecting just yet. He was so hot, and it would be really, really good if that kiss was any indication. He pulled me close, holding my body against his, letting me feel just how affected he was with the kiss. Damn. He was really hot in clothes, but naked...

"What do you say, Cupcake?" he asked.

There went my happy hormone bubble. I bit my lip to keep from cursing him. I am not Stephanie. I am not Cupcake. Thanks for the reminder, Joe.

"No," I whispered, using every ounce of self-control I had to push myself away from him. He rocked backward, obviously past stunned. His eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging open. I sighed and shook my head. "No. This isn't healthy. It isn't going anywhere... I'm going to bed, Joe. Good night."

And I ran. Literally, I took the steps about as fast as I could and shut the bedroom door behind me. I even locked it, but honestly it was as much to remind me to stay in as to keep anyone out. Holy crap, it he hadn't called me 'cupcake' I'd be in the middle of having sex with one of the hottest guys I had ever seen in person. It would be mind blowing, amazing, knees-to-jelly sex. And he'd be calling me Stephanie. That killed the regrets right there. If I got stuck in this body permanently, I was probably going to have to come to terms with that, but right now it just grossed me out.

I flopped down on the bed, burying my face in the pillows. It was time to plan out how to survive this. I'm before Abruzzi and Joe and Stephanie are engaged, which I was pretty sure meant I was either in the DeChooch book or the one where Stephanie chases Ranger. Of course, I hadn't seen a gunshot scar earlier, but then I don't remember if she even ended up with much of one... And then it hit me. I could be about to start on the Abruzzi book. My stomach shrank in on itself and I felt all let's-get-bulimic again. Then again, what could go wrong? I am literally the center of the universe now, right? I smiled into the pillow.

I always wanted to be the center of everything and now I was at least the main attraction. See, I could do this. It was just another role, just another play. Isn't that all that life is? Yeah, thank you Shakespeare, you come through for me again. So the role of a lifetime, the ultimate con: I had to be Stephanie Plum. I stopped to reflect on that.

Cripes, that was a complicated life. Look at it will you: the dysfunctional family from hell, a job that couldn't get much weirder, a town that made even my hometown of gun-toting rednecks and stoners look sane, and a totally FUBAR relationship with a cop who was sex on legs. Oh yeah, there was also... My eyes flew open and I stared into the darkness. Ranger. Batman, Rambo, and Bruce Wayne all rolled into one. Oh, I was so screwed.

Then again, what was he going to know? That Stephanie was acting funny? She always acted funny. I loved the books, but the girl is a little... what did Chelsea call it? Daft. She's definitely a little left of center. And unless Ranger had some top secret file on the switching of bodies he probably was going to chalk it up to her getting landed on by Lula.

I breathed a sigh of relief and snuggled down into the bed. Time for sleep. It was going to be a very long day tomorrow.

Yeah, too bad I didn't know how long. I might have stayed asleep and skipped it altogether.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 4**

I yawned and stretched, laughing softly to myself. If that wasn't the most fucked up dream since The Wizard of Oz, I didn't know what was. I smiled, remembering my silly panic over sleeping with Morelli. Geez, it was a fictional character, whore around all you want... I looked over to check my clock.

My clock sitting beside my bed in our suite is a large, funky purple plastic contraption complete with bell ringer things on top and a digital display. The clock I was looking at was a run of the mill black box. In other words it wasn't mine. I stared at it a moment, frowning. Hm, it wasn't mine and it was sitting on a nightstand that was covered in lace. Lots of dust around too. Nope, definitely not in the dorm, and not Sarah's either. Crap, what did I do last night?

I sat up and looked around wildly. Oh no, i knew this room. This was the room that I'd gone to bed in last night in the dream. And those clothes scattered around weren't mine either. I dove out of the bed and made for the mirror hanging on the door of the closet. A tall, curly-haired brunette stared back at me through impossibly blue eyes. It wasn't a dream.

Good thing I didn't just whore around then, I guess. I sighed and looked at the clock again. I should be getting ready for Middle Ages. I should be, but I guess I didn't have to worry about it now. Huh, the one bright spot: I would never have to take another one of Dr Ferris's tests. That thought made me smile, relaxed some part of my mind that hadn't relaxed since the start of the semester. Thank god. Bring on the psychos, the urban commandos, third world countries and war zones. I could handle it, because never again would I have to face a Ferris Test.

It was enough to make me giddy. I almost skipped around the room as I got dressed. God, she wasn't kidding when she griped about her hair. Good thing I had curly-ish hair myself or it might have inspired a panic attack. A ponytail, a pair of jeans, a tank top and a swipe of eyeliner later I was ready to face the world and win.

I got all the way downstairs before I realized I had no idea where to go precisely in order to meet the world. Crap. I poked through the house for an hour before giving up. No city map. No computer. What the hell was this? The stone age? How do you exist without the Internet? I mean, no email, no IM, no MapQuest! I felt like I had already been shipped to a third world country and I hadn't even encountered Ranger yet.

The good thing was that I found keys to the black Honda CRV that was in the driveway, the ugly Coach purse, and a cell phone. Holy crap I'd missed a lot of calls... I paged through them. Mom, mom, mom, Lula, mom, Office, Office, Ranger. Eep. I checked the voicemail. Apparently 'Mom' wanted me to come to dinner (Hello? I was in that hospital room. I so do not think so!), Lula was hoping I was okay, Connie said she had something ready for me (EEEEK!), and Ranger had left an eloquent "Call me." Probably he was just wondering if the head injury would render me useless for distraction jobs.

Stephanie, that is. Not me. God just quit thinking about it, Lyss. You'll give yourself a headache. Not feeling up to talking to anyone just yet I grabbed the ugly black purse, the phone, Morelli's phone book, the keys, and headed out the door. I climbed in and began investigating. It wasn't bad for an SUV. I'm more of a sporty car or maybe a Jeep Wrangler girl. Yeah, I know that's a leap; just blame it on my mixed heritage (half uptown girl, half cowboy). Then I saw the file sitting on the passenger seat. Oh, peachy... Dreading what I what I might find, I picked it up and flipped it open.

I immediately wished I hadn't.

Notes on Evelyn and Annie Soder. A picture of them. Addresses. Notes on the house, about Abruzzi. Oh someone just kill me now. A whimper escaped me as the panic started to shoot through me. I knew what happened in this case. I didn't want anywhere near this case. I got back out of the car and took a few deep breaths.

I could handle this, I could. I'm tough. And if I don't do this that cute little kid dies at the hands of the psycho, I'd assume. Ugh. I climbed back in the Honda, using every calming visualization I ever learned. I didn't have to worry about this now. Now I had to worry about figuring out how deep into this I was and how you navigated this convoluted city. Focused on my goal of learning my way around, I set out.

Two hours, a map from the 7-Eleven, and a peach smoothie later I had it figured out. Sort of. I had located the office, Morelli's house, Stephanie's apartment, and the Plum household. I even kind of knew the routes between them. I had also rapidly realized I despised driving in New Jersey. God, and people live here why?

I finally made it into the office around 10:30, taking a minute outside to gather up my courage and do the whole balancing of the chakras again. At least there weren't any black cars or large scary types about. Good, no meeting Ranger yet. I had grabbed a bag of donuts from a convenience store, hoping Connie and Lula might go into a feeding frenzy and just forget to ask any troublesome questions. Keeping the bag in front of me, I walked in with a smiled pasted onto my face.

I got all of two steps inside before I got bowled over by a large, very solid brown blur. "About damned time!" The blue yelled as it attempted to squish me. Or hug me. It was hard to tell which before I started getting even more squished by a buxom blond with 3 foot hair who could only be Connie. I guess that made the blur Lula.

"We've been so worried about you!" Connie said, sniffling. I raised the bag of donuts in a belated effort to distract from all the hugging. Lula immediately released me.

"I guess that means we ain't in no doghouse?"

"Duh," I laughed. "Accidents happen. We should go out again sometime soon. Like this weekend or something. But no stairs this time."

"Deal," Connie said with a familiar glint in her eyes. I blinked, tilting my head to look at her more closely. Couldn't be...

"Something looks different about you," Lula said through a mouthful of glazed donut. Connie nodded as well.

"Yeah. You look..."

"I didn't get laid if that's what you're thinking," I interrupted.

"No," Lula grinned demonically. "I know that look. This ain't a sex look. This is a whole new look. You do something different with your hair?"

"No, but I'm thinking about it," I said quickly. "Like, blond highlights and a serious trim. Maybe a straightener. What do you think?"

They eyed me critically for a moment and looked ready to give the pronouncement when Vinnie yelled through his office door. "I don't pay you to give out fashion advice! I pay you to give out files!"

Connie scowled at the door. "He's bugged the place again," she muttered and began searching through her desk. Lula took the filing cabinets. I let them tend to it since they probably knew the hiding places better anyway and took the opportunity to pick up the two folders on Connie's desk.

Laura Minello, wanted for shoplifting a BMW (go her!) and Andy Bender. Oh, good lord. I am not doing this.

"Ain't that Bender guy the one with the chainsaw?" Lula asked as she wandered by and glanced at the folder.

"I think so," Connie said, producing the little electronic gizmo from one of her drawers. She began to smash it to pieces.

I waited until she was finished stomping her aggressions out onto the bug, "Hey, think you could run Evelyn Soder through the computer for me?"

Connie stared at me. "You aren't seriously working on that!"

"Yeah, I am. Please?"

"Fine. But it's gonna take forty-eight hours."

"Works for me," I told her smiling. "Thanks Connie."

"Sure.. and hey, since you're going to call Ranger for help on this one, tell him to call me. He isn't answering his pager."

I blinked. If we wouldn't answer Connie, he probably wouldn't answer Steph. Then again, Ranger moves in mysterious ways according to the books. "I'll tell him, if I can get a hold of him." Connie just looked at me.

Okay, so I don't actually remember Stephanie not being able to get in contact with him, but just in case.

I left the office and sat in the CR-V for a minute, working up the courage to push the necessary buttons which would possibly force me to talk to Batman himself. Joe I could handle because Joe is human. Ranger I keep thinking is somehow related to Diesel. At last I decided that if worse came to worse, I could always just hang up and make a run for the airport. I hit talk. Oh thank god, it just went to message. Sigh of relief. I'll live to die another day.

"Hey, it's Steph. Call me." See, he isn't the only one that can do five syllable dialogue.

Feeling much better about my immediate life expectancy, I pulled out the map of Trenton and the file with Andy Bender's address. Might as well get this nightmare out of the way.

Using the map, I managed to navigate my way around to Andy Bender's residence. The map led me into the projects, but it got me to the desired address. Projects. I shuddered looking around before I got out of the car. I hated these places because they always, always reminded me of Candyman. Looking around I wondered which one was named Cabrini Green. I shuddered. If I saw so much as one single bumble bee that was it. Vinnie could get his own damn skip.

Not too far away an old Cadillac and a newer Oldsmobile were parked along the curb, their owners selling various bits of merchandise. There wasn't grass growing anywhere, there were lots of old junker cars though. That's what is so scary about these places, not just memories of demonic stalkers, but the fact that it looked exactly the same as places in Kansas City or St. Louis. They're always the same. It's eerie.

I gathered my courage and pulled the pair of cuffs, the mace, and the... crap. No gun. Then again I didn't actually know how to shoot one, so maybe that was a good thing. Mace and cuffs, let's see what we can do with this. I got out of the car, tucking the cuffs into the back of my waist, and sauntered to Bender's ground floor apartment.

I knocked loudly on the worn door. A series of curses and various profanities issued out before Bender opened it to peer at me, weaving on his feet. Trashed did not even begin to describe how drunk he was. "Mr. Bender?"

"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded. At least I was pretty sure that was what he said. It was hard to tell with the slurring.

I reached back, grabbing the cuffs. I slapped one on his left wrist and shoved him around to get the other one. "I work for your bond agent. You missed your-"

"God damn it!" he roared, taking a swing at me. I ducked the punch but he unbalanced himself and went stumbling back through the door, taking out at least one t able and a lamp. "My lamp! You broke it!"

"Hey, I'm not the reeling drunken idiot, slick," I retorted, reaching for the mace. I'd rather have had daddy's hunting rifle, but that might have been illegal. He threw the lamp at me.

I jumped out of the way and let the already broken thing smash into the wall. This didn't seem to make the Neanderthal any happier, though, and before I could get the pepper spray out, he'd tackled me. We both hit the floor, and there was a lot of confusion as we rolled around fighting. I'd had better opponents in the girls' locker room, but he was freaking persistent.

And then we rolled through the pizza, followed by the potato chips and god knew what other substances. Yuck, it was like being on some psychotic version of one of those old Nickelodeon shows, where you run through the obstacle course and get coated with food.

He took advantage of my shocked moment of yuck to scramble up and produce a very large chef's knife. Oh, no freaking way! I jumped up, running around behind a table to get some distance while I pulled out the pepper spray.

"Oh please!" he scoffed. "That all you got girly? I love that stuff! I'm gonna gut you, bitch."

"As if," I said taking aim and letting him have it.

He wailed as it made contact with his eyes, but he didn't let go of the knife. Oh no, he took off out the door. Clawing at his eyes with the free hand and still screaming. Damn it.

"Don't run!" I yelled, giving chase. "Get your scrawny ass back here!" I was almost to the door when I got tripped up on the end table and fell hard. I cursed it with every single word I knew in English, German, and Spanish before I got myself untangled and out the door.

I made it just in time to see Bender, still probably blind, peeling out in the old Cadillac. The guy who'd been selling stuff out of the trunk waved to him. Grrr. They had a freaking network. How the hell does that happen? Janet, we need to have a serious talk.

I stalked toward the two men. "Who's car was that?"

"Andy's," the first one asked. He was about six foot and scrawnier than Bender. Of course.

"He didn't have one listed..." I pointed out. They shrugged.

"It's a recent acquisition." Probably came with the t-shirts. "Hey, didn't Andy chase you with a chain saw?"

I rolled my eyes. "Probably. Lots of people chase me, it's hard to remember specifics...." The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I was being watched. The two street guys forgotten, I turned to look. My stomach promptly decided to attempt an emergency exit and dropped about 6 inches.

Just beyond the CR-V was a Mercedes. Leaning against the Mercedes was a tall, mysterious man in black with a body guaranteed to send any straight female to her knees. I let my gaze sweep upward, from the great legs encased in black cargo pants to the sculpted abs, the shoulders, those arms, and up to his face. Oh Holy Crap, Janet, you said he was hot, you didn't say he actually does qualify for Cuban Sex God status!

I was so screwed. I bit my lip and walked toward him, half hypnotized by the hotness, half-terrified of the upcoming ordeal. Janet, we who are about to die salute you...

"Yo," I said weakly. His eyes were dark, amused, and there was the hint of a smile on his lips. Good, stay that way. Amused is good. Amused does not result in my getting shot or sent to Liberia. "I need some help."

The amusement became more visible. "Again?"

I sighed, feeling increasingly nervous. "Yeah... Um, it's about child custody bonds. You know about them, right?" I was frantically going through my memories, trying to replay any and all interactions. What I wouldn't do for a script...

Ranger's head inclined about an inch. "Yes." Geez, Ranger, economy in all things, huh?

"I'm looking for a mom and her seven-year-old daughter. They're local, kind of neighbors even, but I have zilch. No leads, no nothing. Not even rumors. Connie's running stuff through the computer but that will take a couple days."

"Give me what information you have and I'll ask around."

Hm, I know that Abruzzi is after them, they're connected to Evelyn's childhood friend, and it's about some stupid medal... "Thanks," I said with a sigh of relief. Ranger's vague smile reappeared.

He reached out and brushed a few potato chip crumbs off my t-shirt. It was really hard to ignore the fact that his hands were near my chest. In fact, it felt suspiciously like...

I batted the hands away. "Ranger! One set is pretty much like another, you know... " He looked at me for a second, then his lips parted in a grin. A wolf grin. I had a sudden sympathy for cute fuzzy bunnies who get to realize that they're lunch.

"Maybe you should get used to it, considering what you owe me..."

I blinked, shocked for a second. Then my mouth overrode my brain. "You're one of those acquired tastes, then? Like wine- awful the first time and then..."

Ranger stared at me like he hadn't seen me in years. Uh oh. Cover blown. Well hell, might as well bluff it out. I looked him straight in the eyes and pasted on a smirk to echo the one he'd worn earlier.

"Babe," he said warningly about a second before his hands grabbed my arms and pulled me forward. I barely had time to register what had just happened before I was being kissed. Again. His lips covered mine and there was nothing gentle about it. This was lust incarnate.

No wonder Stephanie's always confused. Ranger was just as good as Joe at this. Different, definitely different, though. Joe made you think of hot naked horizontal things. Ranger I was thinking of XXX-Hardcore Porn inspired things.

By the time the kiss was over I was about two nanoseconds away from suggesting the hood of the Mercedes in broad daylight. It took me a second to remember who I was.

"Anything else you needed?" he asked, his voice rough. Good, I better not be the only one thinking NC17 type things.

"Abruzzi. He owns the house," I blurted out, trying to keep myself from actually saying any of the ideas running through my head. "And he seems way too interested. And way too psychotic." Ranger nodded, as if this made perfect sense and the hormone-enraging kiss had not just actually happened.

"Try to stay away from him," he suggested. "He's not a nice guy."

Neither are you, I really wanted to point out. Instead I just nodded in agreement.

Ranger started to get into the car, but paused. He looked back at me, and the expression in his eyes was even more unreadable than average. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," I said softly, giving him a smile. He nodded once, then got in the car and drove away. I watched the black Mercedes disappear before I climbed into the Honda and dropped my head back against the seat.

I was guessing I had maybe a day before he interrogated me. Probably less. Screwed. Royally. Moi.


	5. Chapter 5

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 5**

Disclaimer: Janet owns the Plum universe. The DP is a club my friend Chelsea hopes to open someday. Alyssa is... well, Janet can have her if she wants.

Notes: Thanks for reading, guys! This is just a fluffy filler chapter. Welcome to the DP

_RFRqueenbe_: Your wish, my commeand, lol.  
_Redslover03:_ Glad you like. Somehow I always see Joe and Ranger like that, sort of equal, but opposite. I just happen to prefer Ranger.

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I got back to Stephanie's apartment and headed straight for the shower. Everything else, including thinking, could happen when I was no longer looking like a Nickelodeon escapee.

I did take the time to investigate the available beauty supplies, though. It was amazing the stuff that girl had hidden in her bathroom. Her cupboard and fridge were bare with the pitiful exception of a couple bottles of beer, but damned if she didn't have the entire inventory of the health and beauty aisle. I knew there was a reason she was one of my heroes.

After I climbed out of the shower, I slathered on an egg white mask, slicked my hair in some sort of treatment, and settled in to watch Indiana Jones and wait for it all to set. Holy crap, she still had VHS! How retro! I laughed and shook my head in wonder. I'd barely seen VHS since the PS2 came out. Everyone had DVDs now.

The credits were barely through before the phone started ringing. I let it go- this was why God invented answering machines. Stephanie's mother shrieked out of the speakers. Where was she? Why had she left Joe's without a word? Be there for dinner and be early.

Not happening lady. I stuck my tongue out at the machine. God, no wonder Stephanie had issues: Her dad never spoke and her mom never quit complaining. I was so never setting foot in that house if I could help it.

Next up was the cell phone. I let it go to voice mail as well. There were important things to be done. Namely, getting decked out in something cute and non-slutty (if there was anything resembling that in the closet) and going out. I'm not one for going out alone, but I sure as hell wasn't sitting here to wait for the Cuban Inquisition. I was also not interested in going to dinner and playing nice with the Plum Circus or with the Italian Stallion. I had had enough of being Stephanie for today, thank you very much Janet. It was the glue-like mozzarella cheese in my hair that did it, I think.

While Indy circled the globe searching for the Holy Grail, I talked to myself. Literally, adjusting my voice and trying to rid myself of the accursed accent. By the time Indy was crawling through the sewer with the rats I had figured out how to suppress it I concentrated, and anyway it was time to rinse of the messes and begin the final phases of preparation. Still, I lingered a moment to sympathize with Ilsa. She might have been a bitch, but after today's episode I could feel some pity for her, getting climbed on by all those rats. Wait. Who am I kidding? Look who she got to sleep with. Never mind. I glared at the TV because life was not fair. Of course, look who I could possibly sleep with...

Unwilling to go down the long and treacherous path of rethinking my moral dilemma, I took myself back to the shower to rinse off, finally reemerging to put on some deliciously scented lotion and select my wardrobe for the evening.

Thirty minutes later I had emptied out the entire closet and had come to the rapid conclusion that I had nothing to wear. Oh there were all kinds of sexy slut-wear, but nothing that was just... less obvious. Subtlety, I decided. I needed subtlety. It looked like I was going to have to do some improvising for that one. Nothing new. I lived in a dorm where the washers didn't always work. I could do this.

I began sorting through the piles of clothing, dumping possible items onto the bed as I went, shoes included, then resorted to the drawers... Jackpot.

Sexy dark red pleather pants. How in the hell did she end up with these? Must have been shopping with Lula. I eyed them speculatively. Hm, if it worked for Buffy... I prayed that they would fit and tried them on. Oh, they fit. They fit and they looked good, more than good- they made me look thinner, defying all laws of gods and nature, while simultaneously emphasizing a very cute butt. These were magic pants. Next came a black Wonder Bra and a flattering black camisole tank top. Add some killer boots, some slightly smoky eyes and some lip-gloss, perfect some of the curls... Instant smoking hotness. I smiled at myself in the mirror.

Stephanie smiled back, looking ten times better than she had this morning. Oh yeah, just wait 'til I get the new exercise regimen in place, I thought. You'll so be worshipping me when you get this body back. That ended the smile right there. I stared at the reflection that wasn't me. If I was here... where was Stephanie? Was she dead? Caught in limbo? Or worse, was she somehow a prisoner in the head somewhere, slowly going crazy as she lost control of her actions...

I gave myself a shake. Too much Stargate SG-1, Alyssa. You are not a Goua'ould. Probably this is all a really extended dream sequence and you're going to wake up tomorrow with everyone crowded over you on the stairwell, asking if you're okay.

Hopefully.

I applied an extra coat of gloss. Later. I would think about the existential meaning of it all later. After a couple vodka shots. No, stronger. Tequila? I mused as I snagged Stephanie's wallet, cell phone, keys, and a black leather jacket. Damn the girl did have some taste...

I sighed as I shut the door behind me. No drinking tonight - never drink without a buddy. Oh well, hopefully I could at least get tipsy and sober up with the help of a really, really hot dance partner.

That idea cheered me up and kept my step bouncing all the way downstairs and into the CR-V. I had seen advertisements for a new club called DP opening tonight in my travels around Trenton and had bookmarked the address in my head because it wasn't that far away from Stephanie's. I wondered what DP could stand for, but there was only one way to find out. Go on in and ask.

I angled out of the lot and was off like a shot. It was dark now, and god and Janet only knew how long I would have before the Man in Black dropped by. I was utilizing one of Stephanie's tactics on this one: avoidance. The longer I could avoid being shipped off to a third world country or locked in some secret facility for analysis the better. Still, Ranger wasn't everyone. And I didn't really want to party alone. I frowned and thought things over for a minute. Reaching my decision I whipped out the cell phone and dialed one of the first few numbers. It was answered on the first ring.

"What's up?" Lula sounded surprised. "Since when do you call on a Saturday night?"

"Got any hot dates planned?"

"Sure, I got a real hot one lined up an hour from now. Why? You need back up?" Well that settled that. I sighed.

"Nah, but I saw this ad for the DP and thought it would be cool to check out. I'm headed over there now-"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes," she interrupted. "I don't need to see no idiot man anyway. And I been dying to check out that new club. Always need a new hang out."

"Amen. I'll wait for you in the lot. Or should I get in line?"

"Lot. Ain't no sense in standing out there all alone, what with your luck, white girl."

"Grrr. Good point. See ya there!" and I disconnected, breathing a sigh of relief. I honestly hadn't been sure Lula would go- I mean, the way Janet painted it half the time Stephanie didn't go out, didn't really do girls nights very often. Well that was going to have to change quickly. I needed girls' nights.

The DP was in a big two-story building that looked like it might once have known life as a firehouse. The lights were shining but there wasn't a line yet- the night was early. I grinned to myself, thinking it looked perfect. New yet not bright and shiny, crowded but not stuffed like a sardine tin. I swung the car into the parking lot, which was filling up but not packed yet. I was surprised there wasn't a paid parking area but then again it was new. Give them time to build a crowd, they'd develop the rest of the stuff later.

I amused myself by doing some last minute make-up checks and surfing through the cell phone's logs and phone book. Wow, there were like four numbers for Ranger in this thing. How many bat-phones were there? There were also a ton of other entries for people I had no idea who they might have been. Skips? Family? Friends? Grr, Janet, you should make a Plum family tree or something. You know that right?

The fun of the cell phone exhausted I concentrated on ignoring the niggling voice at the back of my mind insisting I should be working on finding Annie and Evelyn. Like I didn't already know what was up there. I was about to give in and start plotting when a red Firebird pulled in a few spaces down, its bass thumping my ear drums. Lula.

I jumped out of the car and headed over to her as she extricated herself from her own vehicle. I stopped mid-stride when I caught a glimpse of her outfit. Leaping lime green leopard print, Batman! And spangly spandexy too... I blinked to make certain I really was seeing it.

Yep, still seeing it. Lula's brown skin and the bright green leopard print spandex dress, silhouetted against the cherry red Firebird. My smile was one of awe and wonder. "You kick ass," I told her.

"Not so bad yourself, white girl," Lula said appreciatively. "You been working out?"

"Nope. Great pants," I told her. She nodded, respecting the mysterious power of a good designer and a high heel.

We walked across the street and approached the club entrance. A faint case of butterflies erupted in the pit of my stomach, sort of like stage fright. I stopped suddenly, grabbing Lula's arm. "Hey, about tonight.."

"You chickening out, girl? I knew it. I knew you wouldn't just start having fun out of the blue!" she yipped. Grinning, her eyes pinned me. "So what gives?"

"Nothing gives. I've just decided it's time for changes. I need a social life, okay? I'm nervous, I mean it's me, em... Stephanie Plum, and-"

"You worried 'bout your scary reputation, being the bad ass bounty hunter and all." She sounded like it made perfect sense. "You need a secret identity. An alias." I stared at her.

An alias? A secret identity? Right, like that would--- Hang on. Maybe it would. And it would solve more than just guys being put off by any Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories.... I smiled at Lula.

"You are awesome," I told her seriously.

"So what is it? What's your secret identity? I'm gonna need to know on account of being your partner and all."

I only hesitated about half a second. "Alyssa. Call me Lyssa or Lys, whatever."

She nodded, and that was it. We finished our walk to the entrance, which was presided over by a large and unusually amicable looking bouncer. He had to be new. Or he just really enjoyed his job... I looked him over. Well past six feet, muscles on muscles, and built to rival a redwood.

He looked down at Lula and I, sizing us up. "Ladies," he said in a voice that was almost as deep as the bass Lula's Firebird pounded out. The door swung in, and a haze of fog and colored light rolled out to accompany a wall of blaring music. I smiled and gave him a nod before we entered. I liked this place already. We found ourselves in an anteroom containing a girl who was obviously taking the entrance fees. I handed her my cash and waited while she waited on Lula before walking around the corner and into the club itself.

Inside it was pleasantly crowded, that rare amount of people that allows you to find a seat yet also find a dance partner. The decor was... well, with the shifting lights and moving people it was a little hard to tell. But the music was good, with a driving punk beat. If my subconscious had fused The Bronze with The Raven, it would have come out like this. Maybe it had. I didn't care either way, though. Lula nodded toward the bar and I followed her lead. Time to kick the night off right. I waved to the bartender, a gorgeous hunk with stylishly disheveled hair and a catlike smile. Well, until he did a triple take at Lula. I looked at her.

Lula had a wolf smile. Poor guy. I hope he could handle the pressure. I laughed at the idea and placed my order. "Could you give me an orgasm?" I asked sweetly. He did himself credit with his quick recovery from the shock of Lula and grinned at me.

"Sure thing, sweetheart. You want one, or multiples?"

"Multiples, always."

He laughed and turned to my colorful companion. "Anything for you?"

"Sex on the beach,' Lula ordered. Somehow I wasn't entirely certain she was just talking about the drink.

While he got the drinks, I turned my attention to the dance floor- my preferred place in a club any day of the year. There were two levels to it- the main floor and a slightly raised platform along the sides, with a couple cages at the edges along with a couple fireman's poles. I grinned. Too bad I was driving tonight- cages were damned fun when you were drunk. Oh well, if this wasn't a dream I'd have a few more nights to play.

The bartender had set the drinks down, and I was about to hand him the cash when Lula grabbed my hand. "Nope. Tonight's on me," she announced.

I raised my eyebrows but didn't argue. I'm in college- you never argue with freebies. "Thanks, chica!" I said, downing my shot.

"Least I could do after the other night," she shrugged.

"That wasn't your--"

"Excuse me?" interrupted a pleasant male voice. I turned, intending to give the interloper a quick shove off.

The words never made it out of my mouth. He was that hot. Tan, lean build, light brown hair cropped military short, gray eyes. A face made for Calvin Klein billboards and clothes to back it up. In the immortal words of Dot Warner: Helloooo, Nurse! He wasn't Ranger, he wasn't Joe, but he sure as hell wasn't too far behind them either.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked. I smiled. I'd like to do more than dance... Ack. Down girl. Remember to keep the accent out too...

"What's your name?" I asked him. His already killer smile widened. This day just got a hell of a lot better.

"You always answer a question with a question?"

"You must have a really horrible name," I laughed.

"Not really. The name is Jack." His smile was pure charm as he offered me his hand. I took it and hopped off the bar stool I'd taken. I paused though, to shoot an inquiring glance at Lula.

Her look was most definitely approving. Good enough for me.

"Let's dance, Jack." I didn't wait for a response, just starting winding my way to the dance floor. Christ, I could already feel that double shot. This girl's tolerance was worse than a freshman sorority girl! Huh, might make life interesting... I got to the edge of the dance floor and turned to my new partner as the song switched to a more bump and grind type of thing. Time to get down to the fun parts.

My feet were killing me and I had no idea how long I'd been on the dance floor. Other than a couple quick breaks for amaretto sours and an occasional shot with Lula I'd been dancing nonstop, either with Jack or another of the three or so guys who had asked me to dance. I'm never great with names, and I practically have a mental block when I'm drunk. And I was drunk. Stephanie's body did not have my tolerance.

Oh well, I'd sober up later.

Right now there was a fun song coming on and Jake, another cute guy with blond spikey hair, was tugging me back out to dance. He was fun and he could keep up with me. He was also a good dancer. I was in love. Well, okay, probably not, but it was definitely a four-letter word beginning with L. He'd showed up at some point earlier and was Jack's main competitor for my dance card. Lula had had her own successes as well- I was pretty sure she had at least four new numbers plugged into her cell phone, and she was getting free drinks by the bucketful. If I'd thought it would work half as well on me, I would have gone out to find my own lime green leopard print spandex number.

A couple more drinks, the world became one big, happy, deafening blur of dancing and laughter. I was floating somewhere on cloud 18, my feet having gone numb several hours earlier. I wasn't alone, though, there was a small crowd of us still in the mood to keep on going all night, surprisingly Lula was among them. I kind of figured she would have taken off with the bartender before then. But it looked like he might have lost out to a delicious albeit thug-looking type.

Jack and I were back on the dance floor wearing ourselves out before we sat back down for another round when the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. An odd tingle shot up my spine. Either someone had just walked over my grave (yuck, I didn't want to think about that one) or... Ew, didn't want to think about this one. Nonetheless, curiosity won out and I turned in Jake's arms to look back to the main floor in time to see a shadow detach itself from the wall and move toward us.

A tall, commando-shaped shadow.

I froze, and not just stopped-motion, but totally froze. The freeze went straight to the bone. I think my heart might have stopped. Of course, I couldn't see his face and he hadn't spoken but I had the feeling I was in some serious peril. And not the fun kind, either.

"Alyssa?" Jake asked me, his arm settling around my shoulders. "You okay?"

"Um..." Where do I run? Nowhere to hide. Eeep. "I--" too late. He was already here, standing in front of us. The look in his eyes spoke eloquently, even in the shifting lights of the dance floor. It said there were third world countries in the immediate future.

"We need to talk," Ranger said, ignoring Jack altogether. His voice, what I could hear over the music, wasn't any more promising than his expression.

"Umm..." I looked around desperately for an escape route.

"Lyss?" Jake said into my ear. I noted he was bright enough to keep his eyes on Ranger. "Who is this guy?"

I took a deep breath. "A friend..." I think. I grabbed his hand, which was on my waist and turned to look up at him. "Looks like I have to go, but call me okay?" I smiled stepping away. No need to test Batman's patience tonight. I didn't think it would be a good idea. Probably there had been coups in Central America that had happened for less.

Jake smiled, although he still looked a little suspiciously at Ranger. "I will, cutie," he said with a barely noticeable nod. Yipes. How did I manage to locate yet another male who knew that trick? Great. Just what this life needed- another overprotective male. Maybe I wouldn't answer. Maybe I needed another drink before I dealt with Ranger.

He had other ideas. Before I had much of an idea of what was happening, I'd been steered out of the club and we were headed toward a large black truck parked by the curb.

"Ranger?" I asked, my voice a tad squeaky.

Silence, of the stony variety.

"What about Lula?"

"Tank's taking her."

Oh, so that was who tall, dark and thuggy was. "That's cool... um, you know, I could call a cab and-"

"I told you, we need to talk." He opened the door of the Ford. I stood still and just looked at him. The street lights cast his features into harsh contrast, highlighting the lines and shadows in his muscular frame. With his darker skin and black clothing, he really looked like he belonged in the shadows. I shivered. Dark, dangerous, feral, pissed--- but he was still freaking hot. If only he didn't look so scary right now...

"Here is good. Let's talk here," I suggested. His head moved a fraction of an inch. It looked very much like a resounding no.

"Get in, Stephanie," his voice was nearly a growl. The rest of it didn't need to be spoken: Or I put you in.

I sighed and climbed into the cab. Okay, so 'climbed' is being polite. More like I scrambled drunkenly.

Ranger climbed in with considerably more grace and we were off. He slid into his Zone almost immediately. You know, I always thought Steph was exaggerating with that. Like, who would actually be that involved in driving. She wasn't. My mom had had meditation instructors who didn't go that Zen. I stared in awe.

He should give lessons.

It took a minute of staring at the blank Zen Master Hotness before reality began to seep through. Ranger was pissed. I didn't know why. And I was in a car going I didn't know where with him. Hmm. I really never have been too bright when I'm drunk, but this was a new low. Crap. How best to get away?

"Don't even think about it," he startled me. I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. Fine. No escaping. But I was determined to figure out where we were going. There couldn't be that many possibilities. I was pretty sure the destination wasn't the Bat Cave, though. That was disappointing.

Maybe it was Morelli's place? I could deal with him tonight, he was an easy enough score. I wanted to get laid I decided with a sigh. Too much alcohol always did turn me into a nympho. And I was definitely drunk. Drunk enough that it didn't seem so major if he called me Stephanie. Hell, he could call me Santa for all I cared just then. Okay, it wasn't healthy to frustrate myself like this. Just bite the bullet, Alyssa...

"Where are we going?"

"The hospital."

"_What_?" I yelped. Oh no, no way. So not happening... "Ranger don't do this. You can't do this... Come on..."

He slowed down and pulled off into a convenient lot. When he turned to face me, I couldn't see his features in the darkness, just a fuzzy silhouette from the dash lights.

"Babe," he said quietly. "What happened the other night?" Huh? I frowned at him, letting my confusion show. "You don't remember, do you?"

I pursed my lips, evaluating my choices. Lying just didn't seem smart. "No."

"How much don't you remember?" he was sounding thoughtful now. Uh oh. Danger Will Robinson...

"I, uh, I remember Connie and Lula and I went out..."

"Did the doctors even examine you before you left the hospital?"

Screwed.

"Um, I... I think so. They said I was fine. Maybe some short term memory loss, but--"

"I'm taking you to the hospital," his tone was final. Anyone with common sense wouldn't have argued with it. But I was desperate and I was drunk. Not two conditions known for common sense.

"No. Come on, you're being paranoid! I'm perfectly fine. Look, it's just a night out---"

"Someone let a bunch of snakes loose in your apartment tonight. Albert Kloughn found them."

Oh. Crap. "Look, it's probably just some stupid-"

"You don't get mixed up with someone like Abruzzi and just go out without weapons or backup," Ranger's voice was now as dark and forbidding as his looks. "You don't disappear for a night without telling anyone where you're going. So either you're suffering from some form of amnesia or you're being stupid."

I winced, oddly stung by the reprimand. My subconscious had a hell of a temper. That or... No, no we weren't going down that 'Is this real?' path again. To keep my sanity, this was a dream. I cleared my throat, wondering at the way it suddenly felt tight and scratchy. "Ranger," my voice was barely more than a whisper. "I'm sorry. It's just, " okay, plausible excuse, need a plausible excuse... "I didn't think. I was stupid okay? I'm sick of it always hiding in my apartment."

"Morelli has a house," he said dryly.

"Morelli wants a cupcake," I muttered. Ranger chuckled. I just looked at him. I didn't find it all that amusing, but if it got me off the hook, I wasn't arguing.

Ranger angled the car back onto the street and started sliding back into his Zone. I waited for all of thirty seconds before I had to know or risk dying of an anxiety attack.

"Where are we going?"

"The hospital. Nice try though, Babe."

Grrr. I narrowed my eyes and him. Oh just you wait, Henry Higgins...


	6. Chapter 6

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 6

Note: For Joanne. And don't worry oh fans of chocolate chip cookie dough goodness. Your scene too shall arrive. Somewhere in all this mess, lol. Oh, also: the timeline will probably be a little screwy and Chelsea just realized that somehow Morelli went from being all let's-get-married to no-us in between books, but we're leaving him in the number 7 frame of mind anyway because... um, it's more fun that way. Besides, if Steph told him she didn't want to marry him, he'd probably want to marry her again anyway.

Disclaimer: Janet owns the Plum Universe and the characters in it. And if she wants Alyssa, I'm sure we can work out a custody agreement. We would also like to note that Alyssa is very drunk in this scene and we are therefore not responsible for her actions.

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I had a plan. A devious, evil, drunkenly brilliant plan. I just needed...

"Hey Ranger, could we stop somewhere? That last round of mind probes is making me feel weird..."

Ranger shot me a look. I just bit my lip and looked pathetic. It wasn't too hard- Vulcan mind probes really never did set well on my stomach. It's what I get for downing so many last Halloween. Then again, maybe Stephanie just didn't like them... I just played it up a little. .

"Babe," he sighed.

"Bite me," I sulked. I could almost feel his eyes slide away from the road to look at me.

"What did you drink tonight?" He sounded concerned. I thought about that. Most of the night was a happy dancing, sweating, laughing blur. I settled on a shrug.

"Not much really. I think I had a cosmopolitan and a martini..." He nodded vaguely, apparently satisfied. I smirked. Yeah right, would I be representing my school if I turned in after that little? Right.

" Then we got some Vodka shots, and something with rum in it... and then some Amaretto sours... oh, and a couple orgasms. The bartender said they were his specialty," I laughed at that. "Such a guy. Then the Vulcan Mind Probes. Have you ever had those? Freaking horrible, lethal, poisonous. I think I only did maybe two." I could almost hear him raise his eyebrow as the list continued. At least he didn't seem that pissed anymore.

Right. He was too, he was putting me off my guard. Waiting for a show of weakness before he pounced and ripped me to shreds. Well, hopefully he'd just rip the clothes to shreds. That would be nice...

Apparently I did look a little ill, because we pulled off at a 7-Eleven. Were those things everywhere here? Freaks.

"Thanks!"

"No running, Babe. I will stun you." Ranger turned to give me a full menacing mercenary look, which under the weird light of the neon storefront was actually pretty evil looking. I rolled my eyes.

"Ranger, I can't walk, and you think I can run?" I struggled with the door and ended up taking a headlong dive out of the truck. I landed hard, catching myself partly with the heel of my hand, while the rest of my weight landed on my unfortunate hip.

I yelped more from surprise than actual pain as the pavement bit into my skin. I was pretty sure that last round of vodka shots had killed off my pain sensors. I scrambled to my feet, but it took me a second to get my balance, then another for the world to quit moving around. I risked a glance back into the truck and winced as I saw the driver's face. Ranger looked like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or shoot me. I stuck my tongue out at him, turned and staggered on into the store.

Inside I waved to the clerk before I hit the bathroom. I splashed some water on my cheeks, checked my looks. Not bad for a night of dancing, and especially not bad for the fluorescent lighting I was under. I only looked half-dead as opposed to the full-corpse look I was expecting.

I reapplied my lip gloss and gave the girl in the mirror a saucy grin. I was happy, buzzing, and bloody brilliant. Also unbelievably thirsty. Reassured of my own self-worth I stepped out of the ladies room and snagged a bottled water on my way to the counter. I paid for it and was guzzling it down even before I got out the door.

I clambered back into the truck and we were off again. I took more measured sips of the water, my thoughts spinning dizzily in my head. I glanced at the Cuban Sex God driving. Oh my Lord, could he get any hotter right now? My alcohol-aided hormones sure didn't think so. Not that they were thinking of much besides him naked, sweaty, tossing me down on a really soft bed... or the seats, whichever were handy...

A rush of heat shot through me. Fuck. I didn't need this now. I had a plan. I couldn't get distracted from the...Imagining what it would feel like to have his hands all over me... seeing him fully naked like I had had imagined so many times... I slumped backward against the seats, my eyes drifting close as the terrifyingly powerful fantasy swept through my body, setting off one of those frustrating body-encompassing aches. You know the ones.

"I need to get laid!" I whimpered, barely even realizing I'd said anything until it was too late. Oh god. Did I really just say that? No I didn't. I didn't. I didn't...

Ranger let out a long breath.

I did.

"Babe?" his tone was half disbelieving. I sighed. Well, the secret was out...

"Yeah?"

Silence.

"Oh come on, you've never had a night like that?" I sniffed. Then again, no, not with his looks. Not likely. "Sorry. But it's true. Do you have any idea what massive amounts of rum and vodka can do to a girl?"

"But you're going to share," he said, obviously amused.

"How did you survive even a month at college without knowing the rum trick?" I sighed. "Never mind, don't answer it. You were probably a model citizen."

Ranger let out a very un-sex-godly snort. Hm, question answered. "What about Morelli?" he asked, kind of out of the blue if you asked me.

"What? Oh, yeah, him..." Uh-oh. How am I explaining this one? No details, I decided. "We broke up. You know, like always."

"Thought you were getting married."

Okay, something is off here. One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn't belong... Ranger is driving. Ranger is speaking. Ow, it made me dizzy... I took a drink of water.

"Um. No. He didn't give me a ring. I didn't want a ring. There was a general lack of ringlyness. One ring to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them. Ick. Never mind. I hate rings. Stupid things, all binding and stuff. Like marriage.... and I am not a damned dessert, either." I turned to Ranger, a full body turn so i was sitting sideways in the seat. "Am I wrong? Am I a dessert?" He glanced over at me with a full-out wolf grin. Oh yeah. I was dessert. I might even be the main course. I giggled.

"Okay, fine. I'm dessert. But that's the problem, don't you see?" Ranger's eyes were back on the road, but I decided the way his shoulders were set were a nonverbal sort of 'no, please explain.' "If I'm just a dessert to him, then is he marrying me because he wants me to be more, or is he looking to keep a stash of midnight snacks? I don't want to be a snack!" I huffed, sitting back and crossing my arms defensively over my chest.

Ranger actually flicked a glance at me. His lips quirked in a hint of a smile. "Only you, Steph."

"What? Only me what?" Grrr. "Enough with two syllable sentences!"

"That was three." He was annoyingly amused.

"Three, two, five," I waved my hand impatiently. "Numbers. Enough with them." This brought a smile.

We were stopped. I frowned. Stopped where? Wow, was it just me or was I getting more drunk? Damned Vulcan mind probes, hitting me almost fifteen minutes later...

"Come on, Babe," Ranger said, appearing at my door. How'd he do that? Wasn't he just driving and...

"This isn't a hospital. I don't see any ana- anbellish.. ambulances."

"No. I think it better wait until tomorrow," he said, taking my arm and guiding me down from the truck. He even managed to keep me on my feet when I landed. Impressive, Obi-Wan... mmm, Ewan McGregor... naked...

"I'm really drunk," I giggled. Ranger gave me a look that announced this should have been blindingly obvious. I giggled again. He was cute, too. Wonder if he had a lightsaber...

"Lightsaber?" he questioned as he began guiding me toward the building. Oops.

"Yeah, like in Star Wars. Cause you'd make a really good Obi-Wan."

He muttered something in Spanish. I wasn't sure exactly what, but I caught a couple words...

"Why you what?" I frowned. "You have to go slower, it's hard to think past the vodka. It keeps sounding Russian."

"Didn't know you spoke Spanish, Babe," Ranger said, arching an eyebrow. Merde.

"Un poco," I said, illustrating the amount by squeezing my thumb and forefinger together. This brought back fun memories of late-night discussions in the dorms and another fit of giggles. They died off as we stepped into the elevator.

This brought on a fit of something entirely different. A fit of elevator sex thoughts. Oh, the possibilities... I glanced consideringly at Ranger.

"You're drunk, Steph," he said, as though readingthe thoughts. I narrowed my eyes at him. Great. Maybe frat boys aren't so bad after all. At least I always knew I could get a piece. Okay, not one that I wanted, and they generally have no idea what they're doing, but...

Bet Ranger would know what he was doing and then some. My eyes raked up his body, so very close and yet so far... the firm column of his throat, the delicious line of his jaw, the earring... the earring. I fixated on it. Oooh, bright shiny diamonds...

I reached out and touched it, smiling. "It looks good on you," I told him. My fingers barely brushed his skin before his hand caught my wrist tightly. Hmm, I wonder if that meant...

"Behave."

"That's boring. I'm tired of boring. Let's do fun," I suggested, bringing my other hand up to brush the side of his ear, lightly tracing the edge, on down his throat. His skin was smooth, almost soft but in that masculine sort of way. I wondered if he used lotion, and if he'd let me help him put it on.

"Stephanie..." his tone was warning. Probably meaning 'stay back' but the Vulcan mind probes said 'go on' and as sexy as his voice was, the Vulcans were more convincing. I took a step closer, until I was almost touching him. I could literally feel his body heat. I bet he had a hell of an aura. Definitely powerful, probably even red or yellow...

"Yes Ranger?" I whispered, tilting my head back to look up at him. He still had control of my right wrist, but my left was still rubbing across his shoulder, down his chest... Mmm, yummy. I'd never gone much for muscled guys, but I was beginning to think he could change my mind.

I didn't follow what happened next as his Super Special Forces reflexes kicked in and somehow in a blur of motion, we were out of the elevator and I was pinned against a wall, his face dangerously, kissably close to mine.

"You're playing with fire," he growled. And then he kissed me. His mouth pressed against mine and I immediately surrendered, letting his tongue sweep into my mouth. I distantly registered his weight crushing me into the wall, letting me know I wasn't the only one turned on. My whole body was warm, aching, tightening. Sweet krispy kreams, If a kiss is just a kiss... My arms had wrapped themselves around his neck and I arched into his solid, real, breathing, living body, moaning. His hands crept under my top, sliding along my overheated skin as he bit gently down on my lip, and that was it. I was done for, literally. My hands gripped his shoulders and I broke the kiss, gasping for air.

Ranger looked down at me, his eyes full of something, but hell if I could read it. He was so much easier as a set of words. I just stared at up him, blinking. I think I'd been stupefied. Okay, more than stupefied.

"Wow," I finally managed. Wow indeed. I didn't know kisses could freaking do that- rum or no rum. I had definitely just... wow. Wait until the girls found out. We had so been kissing the wrong guys. Screw the frat boys. I'm ruined for frat boys and if this was a dream, screw waking up. It wasn't worth it. This made much better... Reality.

I'm not Stephanie. This is her life, her private life I'm screwing with. The facts hit me like a sledgehammer as I stared up into his dark eyes. I should have been shoving him away, but I wasn't sure I could fully stand on my own yet. For his part, Ranger was still regarding me with that oddly warm but confused look. A moment more passed in dazed silence before we fully separated. At least I wasn't the only one affected, although since the front of his pants weren't wet I guessed I'd been the one most... thoroughly hit.

"Come on," he said at last, his voice still rough. "You're going to bed." He opened the door I hadn't noticed before and ushered me through... the lights turned on and I bit back a scream.

"Um, Ranger," I said, staring around in a mixture of confusion and distant rising fear. "Ranger this isn't S- this isn't my apartment..."

Come to think of it that hadn't been my elevator or my hallway, either. Or my parking garage...

He had the nerve to laugh. "No, it isn't."

"Is this a safe house?" I glanced around, the answer already forming in my mind. Upscale decor, plush carpet, ultra modern lines and very masculine colors... I think I'd read this description before.

He shook his head, still smirking. "Just an apartment I use when I'm working late at the office."

I stared at him, my eyes wide. Janet is going to kill me, I realized. Any second now I'm gong to be swooped down on and wiped from the pages of life... The bolt of cosmic lightning hit me with a sucker punch to the stomach. Ugh.

"Ranger? Where's the bathroom?" I asked, wrapping an arm around my stomach like it might help keep the contents inside.

"Down the hall, to your left."

I was off like a shot, making it in the nick of time. I was barely aware of his presence until he was holding my hair back, putting it into a ponytail. After the main event was finally done with, he pressed a glass into my hand. I took a sip and rinsed, then promptly collapsed into a fetal position on th floor.

"You should know your limits," Ranger told me. I cracked my eyes open to give him a glare I did know my limits! I just didn't know Stephanie's. Ugh. The effect was lost as I scrambled up to re-worship the porcelain god.

"Feel better?" I nodded, and he helped peel me off the floor. "Take a shower and I'll get something for you to wear."

He closed the door behind him and I stared at it blankly for a second, then at the shower. Back at the door. I was nervous. I couldn't shower here. This was the shower of legend. The shower of Batman. The shower of Bulgari... ok, well, there wasn't any Bulgari here at the moment. Maybe it wouldn't be so... yeah. It didn't count if there wasn't Bulgari involved.

I sucked up my wits and stripped. The hardest part was getting the leather hair tie out of my hair, but I managed. Then I stood naked at the outside of the shower, watching the water run for a full minute. It was like entering hallowed ground, you couldn't just jump in. This was The Shower. It had seen Ranger naked.

Oh god, Ranger had been here. Naked. My hormones shouted for joy. If you could bottle that guy's sex appeal, there wouldn't be man alive who couldn't get laid. I stepped into the shower and promptly lost all train of thought. I took my time standing under the water trying to cleanse myself of the sexy thoughts. I couldn't do it. I wasn't Stephanie. It would be wrong.

Instead I enjoyed the shower and almost passed out when I opened the bottle of shower gel. Fuck me, it was Bulgari. Janet was going to kill me after all. Oh well, might as well enjoy yourself if you're going to die for it...

Sometime later I toweled off with one of the huge guy-sized towels and almost screamed when I saw the black t-shirt sitting on the counter. I really hoped that the shower had been fogged over.

Dressed in the borrowed black threads, I padded out in search of the host. I found him in the living room, watching basketball, stretched out in black sweats and a black wife beater. Again with the freaky weirdness. Ranger watching basketball? In casual clothes? One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't compute... He turned and gave me an appreciative once over.

"Do you mind if I borrow a comb?" I asked, deciding to ignore the weird factor.

"Second shelf in the bathroom cabinet." Right. I shook my head, trying to clear away the scene I had just seen, and went back to the bathroom. I'm drunk. I'm hallucinating. See this is proof this whole thing isn't real. Ranger doesn't do this. Comb in hand I traipsed back out to make sure I had seen what I had seen.

Yep. Still watching basketball, complete with sweats. I could handle being switched to a new body, hurled across time and space, chased by a stupid psycho drunk guy, rolled through food, even being expected to be someone I wasn't. But Ranger does Everyday Guy? Even if it's a sort of Dangerous Everyday Guy? Nope, too much. Information overload.

"You do have a gun somewhere in reach, right?" I asked as I sat down on the other side of the couch. He just looked at me and gave a faint nod. I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god. I was worried you'd like, had a twin I didn't know about." He looked amused again.

"I told you there was only one of me."

"That's a good thing. I don't think womankind could handle two of you." He chuckled at that and took the comb away from me.

"Turn around. You're too drunk to handle a comb."

"Thanks," I laughed. He was right, I'd been uselessly fighting the same tangle since I started. He took all of maybe five minutes. And it didn't hurt once. Maybe not so Everyday Guy after all. Plus it put me into an almost comatose state. I curled up against the arm of the couch and was out before my head even touched the cushion.

The next thing I was aware of was the darkness of the room, and the soft blanket covering me. Hm, wonder when that happened? I stretched and snuggled back down into the couch. Don't care. Tomorrow: Hair appointment to chop off hair, clever scheme to avoid being committed, and find Evelyn's best friend so Abruzzi can get the hell away from me.


	7. Chapter 7

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 7

Disclaimer: first off, Janet still owns Stephanie and company. Secondly, Alyssa doesn't really belong to anyone, but if you want her, give us some Vulcan Mind Probes and we'll let you have her.

Note: I cheated on the Spanish. It's late and I'm lazy. I know Ranger would have addressed her in the familiar form but I can't remember it at the moment.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up when someone's weight settled onto the mattress, and I immediately hated them for it. My mouth tasted like a gym sock, my stomach felt like I'd swallowed a few more. As for my head... oh, please someone get the guillotine. And I hadn't even opened my eyes yet. It was going to be a hell of a day. I foresee lots of crying and soft warm foods.

"Go away, Chelky," I mumbled to the weight, pushing away the hand that was settling on my shoulder. I was not getting up. After that cracked out dream I had, I was entitled to sleep in.

"Come on, Babe," a warm, masculine, voice urged as a large callused hand enveloped my wrist. "Get up."

Oh, shit. That definitely wasn't Chelsea...

I opened one eye to confirm my fear, feeling that opening both would be overkill. Yep, one smirking Cuban Sex God was leaning over me. Would this damned thing never end! I frowned up at him, biting my lip to keep any scathing remarks from slipping out. The smirk widened and he grabbed my shoulders, hauling me to a sitting position.

"Bastardo," I muttered, batting his hands away to stand on my own. The world spun itself around wildly and I grabbed onto the couch to steady myself. I was in the Bat Apartment, I realized after the dizziness began to clear. Ranger had brought me here last night, after... and I'd... the elevator...

"¿Cuándo usted aprendió español?"

"En escuela," I said without thinking. In my defense, I was sort of occupied with wondering what the hell I had done to the timeline of my favorite books. Then I realized what I had just said. I turned to look at Ranger, just waiting for the gun to appear.

"You've never used it before," he said conversationally. I shrugged.

"I'm trying to brush up. It helps if you use it everyday. I could use my Italian phrases instead if you'd prefer," I smiled at him. "But your ancestors probably wouldn't thank me." This got an almost-smile out of him.

"Get dressed," he said, still giving me a curious once-over. "Breakfast's in the kitchen."

I blinked and looked down at myself, surprised to discover I was wearing an oversized black t-shirt. My jaw dropped a little. Oh my god. The elevator... Had I? Had we? My eyes flew to Ranger.

"Um, I don't mean to be weird, but um,..."

He laughed. "You were trashed." I just looked at him. That wouldn't stop most- okay, any- guy I'd ever known. He looked surprised at my lack of reaction. "Babe, you think I'd take advantage?"

I sighed. No, not really, at least not if what I remembered from the books was accurate. But then, Steph hadn't gotten to this apartment until two books from our current situation. How the hell did the equation work now?

"No Ranger, I don't..." I shrugged. "I'm sorry. But every guy I've ever known definitely would have."

He inclined his head as if he expected something along those lines. "You know the wrong guys."

"I'm a sucker for the bad boys," I laughed. "Now, oh noble knight in shining combat boots, where are my clothes?"

He coughed, trying to hide a laugh I think. "Combat boots?"

I gestured to his feet, which were currently in a pair. "More trendy than armor. And more stealthy too."

"Are you still drunk?"

I thought about this for a second. "It's possible."

"Your clothes are in the bedroom."

I opened my mouth to say something but quickly caught myself. No, just leave it alone. I probably didn't want to know anything anyway. At least until I was out of his T-shirt. Decided on my course of action, I hightailed myself to the bedroom to get dressed, and on to the bathroom to attempt to look presentable.

I gasped in horror when I saw my reflection. I looked like Kerri Russell during finals week, but it wasn't the curls that were holding my stunned attention. It was the color of the curls now- I could have sworn they were darker last night but there were definite highlights showing through.... Probably just a trick of the light, I decided and resumed my attempts at taming it all into a ponytail, using the elastic I kept in my coat in case of emergencies.

The one perk of curly hair is how adorable it looks when you get it up in a ponytail- just a touch of effort and it can pass for a really cute evening style. People will think you spent hours on it, when in actuality it takes about five minutes. I have friends still bitter over the fortune they spent on prom hairstyles when I only sprung a couple bucks for a fake flower and a coated hair tie.

Okay, so my hair was cute, it was still too bad about the bloodshot eyes and the throbbing headache. I didn't have the make-up with me to cover the morning after pallor, either. Ugh. I grabbed my lip-gloss and used some of it for a blush as well. It helped, at least a little. Sunglasses would have to cover the eyes... shit. I didn't have any. Hmm, Ranger...

I headed out to find him having breakfast. My eyes locked on the bagels and cream cheese. There was other stuff laid out- a very proper Continental breakfast, but I had my sights set.

"What happened to roots and berries?" I asked as I snitched a bagel and slathered the fat free cream cheese on it.

"Only when I'm in third world jungles," he said, watching me intently. I sighed, wondering if Stephanie didn't like bagels. Oh well, she could suffer. I think I moaned over the first bite. These were bagels from bagel nirvana- warm, a little chewy, delicious...

"I don't blame you then," I told him when bagel-happiness wore off. "Hey, about last night. I'm really sorry," I put down the bagel and forced myself to look him in the eye. "I think I acted pretty out of line... especially in the elevator." His face was blank, totally unreadable. Ouch.

"Please say something, Ranger?"

"Don't worry about it," he said, taking a sip of tea. Tea. Big scary tea-drinking commando. As long as no more basketball games or sweats were involved, I could handle it. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding in.

"Thanks. I can't believe the way I acted," I shook my head. "Captain Morgan is a bitch..." I blinked, a sudden thought leaking into my muddled brain. "Oh, and, um, last night didn't fulfill the deal, either, right? It wasn't the full night."

Ranger chuckled at that. "No, we'll just add it to your tab." He looked at me, and his expression sent a wave of heat straight to my core. "You'll know when I claim my night."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to center myself before I even attempted a coherent response, while also fighting the urge to hyperventilate. Spending the night with the Cuban Sex God? In a body I didn't belong to? I needed to get out of here, fast.

"Babe," I felt his fingers brush my wrist where it lay on the table. "it's not the end of the world to sleep with me."

I opened my eyes to give him a skeptical look. "That's not the full problem, Ranger. There are- complications." He raised an eyebrow, which I assumed meant 'such as?', so I continued. "Like..." I searched my brain, desperately trying to remember a line, any line from any talk from any book that would get me out of this one.

"Such as relationships."

"You said last night you were broke up, and there didn't seem to be any issues..." He was smirking. Oh yeah. I am, and I did...

"Hey, last night was..." Was me being a drunken Alyssa. Damn it. "It was a fluke, and I said I was sorry for acting like a tramp. Besides, I am broke up, but what about you? You could be in a relationship..."

He shook his head. "My life doesn't lend itself to relationships."

Me and yours both, dude. Although probably for entirely separate reasons. "Okay, then. Problem settled...." I bit my lip and met his eyes again, locking gazes with the unreadable dark chocolate orbs. You know, someone really ought to tell him those are supposed to be the gateway to the soul. He looks like his has a titanium steel barrier in the way. "There's still another one, though."

He just looked at me, waiting.

"Friendship. Not everyone can handle sleeping with a friend. Usually someone freaks out and that's it- end of story. No more friends, but lots more drama. Ranger, I don't know your thoughts on the matter, and that's all cool, but I know I..." hm, what did Stephanie think about this? You know, it never really said, Janet. For writing a nice fun romp, you really did do a remarkably obtuse job on her Ranger feelings. On her feelings in general, come to think of it. Mixed up. From the mixed-up files of Ms Stephanie Plum. That's what I was operating on here. Grrr. I hate you Janet.

"I think of you as one of my best friends," I said in a rush. "And no, this isn't me trying to get out of our deal, either." Just delay it for a while. Like for another book- one without me acting the lead. Come on, you've waited this long! "I just don't want to lose that. So, I guess I'm afraid that's gonna be the price, you know? Not the night together, but losing a friend. I should have thought of that before I even accepted," I shook my head at the stupidity of it, feeling suddenly depressed.

Ranger was leaning back in his chair, regarding me thoughtfully. Assessing. I swallowed hard, and waited for him to say something. I had just done an entire monologue on feelings, actually said it out loud, too. Probably that just broke one of the cardinal rules of this stupid place. Ever notice that? Everyone spends their entire time running away from any serious mention of feelings. Mama would say they need to get in touch with their inner child. Although if Ranger has an inner child, I have a sneaking suspicion it probably has a black belt and a switchblade.

"Babe," he said finally, shaking his head.

"I know, I know. We need to get going, right?" I was disgusted with the whole damn thing now. Ranger included. I couldn't even look at him, so I shoved away from the table and headed for the door. Screw it. I refuse to be emotionally stunted just because it's the going trend here. I grabbed my coat and had one hand on the door when he caught me.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. Somewhere. I don't know," I said, pushing his hand off my shoulder. "I don't care."

"Nice try, Stephanie, but you're going with me, and you're getting checked out by a doctor. You haven't been acting like yourself since your injury."

"I'm fine, Ranger. Just peachy. Maybe I just need a vacation." I kept my eyes focused squarely on his chest. He was smarter than that, using his index finger to tilt my head up, forcing me to look at him.

"You surprise me." He moved his head a fraction to the side, almost a full head shake. I shrugged, helpless to explain myself. "We're gonna be late." He pulled away and held the door open.

The first surprise came when the elevator stopped on the third floor and Ranger ushered me out. I shot him a look, which he shrugged off. "We have a couple doctors on staff."

"You weren't meaning physical doctors, were you?" I gritted my teeth as it finally hit me.

"Psychiatrists."

Shit. Merde. Damn. Hell. And other such expletives.

"You think I'm crazy?"

"I think you're stressed."

"Grrr."

Ranger smirked at me, and opened a door. I shot him the evilest look I could muster as I walked past him. I should have known I couldn't fool Batman. Deciding I should ignore him until further notice, I looked around the office. It was nothing special- calming blue walls, peaceful pictures with meaningful messages, a few certificates hanging behind the desk... Ah, goody, complete with brown leather chair and couch. And the psychiatrist... Holy Hat Dances Batman.

"Jack Ryan, Stephanie Plum." Ranger was either doing a very good straight man, or he didn't realize I'd met the office psychiatrist the night before.

"Ms. Plum?" Jack's green eyes looked just as surprised as I felt, but he recovered faster. He stood up and walked around the desk extending a hand to me. "It's nice to meet you again."

"Hi, Jack," I said weakly, shaking the offered hand.


	8. Chapter 8 9

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Janet would probably shoot us if she knew what we are doing to her plot, or what Alyssa is planning on doing to it.

Note: Ranger and Joe might deserve your comfort and compassion in the next few chapters. Just thought we'd let you know.

Okay, Alyssa, take a deep breath. You can do this. It isn't the end of the world, just think before you speak. I looked at Jack, sizing up my probability of survival... 'Hellooooo Nurse!' shrieked my inner Dot Warner. Oh boy, this could hurt...

"You two know each other?" Ranger asked, pulling me out of my contemplation of Jack's face. I glanced at him. Was it just me or did he look a millimeter more tense?

"We met last night," Jack told him, his eyes shifting away from me almost nervously to look at his boss.

Ranger's head moved a quarter of an inch, and I couldn't tell if it was an 'okay, cool' nod or 'I may fire you soon.' Whichever it was, Ranger turned back to me.

"Jack has your keys."

Of course, he knew Stephanie wouldn't do this without a fight. Ugh. Fine. Be that way. I simply nodded and tried to look calm.

"I'm not going to go running off. I said I'd talk to him."

Ranger looked skeptical.

"Good." And he was gone. I didn't pause to worry about the abrupt departure. He probably couldn't do a graceful exit if his life depended on it. Instead I stood looking at Jack

He cleared his throat and motioned to the couch. I took the cue and sat down in the corner of it, feeling very exposed in last night's clubbing clothes.

"So, do you always introduce yourself with a different name?" He asked, smiling.

I winced. "No. I just--" wanted to be me for a night, "didn't want to be recognized. I'd had enough of being stared at and asked about the stupid funeral parlor."

"Understandable," he said, taking a seat in the chair across from me, a notebook and pen already in hand. "Now, why are you here?"

I smiled at him. "Good question. I assume you don't want a dissertation on philosophy?" _Although, come to think of it, it might be a better start._

"No," he smiled. "Just the reason for the visit, since I would assume you weren't aware I would be the therapist."

"Nah, actually I've been acting weird specifically so Ranger would introduce us," I smiled what I hoped was an adorably cute, completely sane flirty smile, although with the pounding hangover it could have come off as PMS poster girl.

"Ms. Plum..."

"Stephanie," _Alyssa_, "please. I think after last night we're on first name basis. And I'm here because of last night, sort of. Really more because apparently I've been acting weird since I hit my head... I fell down some stairs and my friend Lula - you met her last night- she fell on top of me. I was out for a few hours. But ever since then Ranger thinks I've been acting off. Joe too, come to think of it."

"Joe?"

"Morelli. My on again, off-again ex. Obviously off again right now."

"And what do you think?" he asked, making another note. I hate that about psychiatrists- making notes that you can't see. How are you supposed to trust someone who may or may not think you're crazy? Of course, since it might actually be possible that I'm crazy, it makes things worse...

"I think they're right," _I know they are._ "But they're overreacting." _They're underreacting._ "I'm fine. I'm just sick of... of being someone I'm not. I don't even know who I am right now, so I'm trying to find out. Spend a little more time with friends, focus on my goals a little more." There, didn't that sound nice and sane? A perfectly reasonable search for personal identity. Thank you Freshman Psych.

"And this feeling came about after your injury?"

__

Yes. Before my injury I was perfectly happy with my life as a college co-ed. "No. I've been unhappy with things for a while, but I've been ignoring it all. I'm really good at denial, especially with emotional stuff. I've decided to be more honest with myself and with everyone else. What if I'd died and left all that unsaid? No one would know how I'd felt or what I'd thought. How sad is that?" I shook my head, relieved. Look, instant reason for emotional outburst! I'm getting in touch with my feelings. Hah, take that Janet.

"Hmm, you mentioned your goals, earlier. What are they?" Jack asked, leaning forward as if interested. Uh-huh, probably trying to keep himself awake...

What were my goals? To get home, back to my 20-year-old college girl life, but he didn't need to know that. "To become better at my job, to be able to defend myself better, higher fitness level. To date Colin Ferrell. The usual."

"You didn't mention relationships," he prompted. I frowned at that.

"I'm trying not to think about that. I need to know who and what I am before I worry about relationships. I mean, look at the last one. Ugh."

"Tell me about it."

Yeesh. Okay, think Stephanie, think Stephanie... "Joe Morelli. The current ex, remember? He's a Vice cop, supposedly like the hottest guy in the 'Burg. We were engaged, but he wouldn't even do the ring thing. I mean, seriously, how the hell are you engaged sans ring? It's stupid." I did try, really hard, to stay in character, but the disdain just sort of crept on through. Gah, stupid hangover.

"Anyway, we seem to just keep getting back together, fighting, breaking up, making up, wash, rinse, repeat."

"Mmm," Jack was writing again. "Sounds like an unhealthy pattern." I coughed, trying to hide my laughter. No fair stealing Ranger's lines. He doesn't have that many to spare. Jack just looked at me quizzically.

"Sorry, someone else said something similar once. And it's very true. So that's what I'm trying to do now, break the cycle, you know? Screw them expecting me to marry Joe and pop out kids and clean house. I may be incompetent like he says, but it's my life and I don't want..." What the hell didn't she want, anyway? Every two pages she flip-flops! Janet, you are so getting a nasty letter when I get home... "to not be a bounty hunter." He nodded as if this sounded perfectly reasonable.

"Any other men in your life?"

"Aside from Ranger, no."

He set down the pen and looked at me. "What is your relationship with him?"

"We're friends. And not friends with benefits... but I'm not sure if that's the permanent state of affairs. I think we're at a weird place, with the possibility of benefits." I bit my lip and thought about it. Yeah, that kind of summed it all up. "I just wish I knew he considered me a friend, too."

Then again, he did hold my hair back when I was barfing, which is a time-honored test of friendship. And he'd still flirted afterward. If a guy can see you throw up and still get sex on the brain, you've got him. At least in my world.

"He isn't the most verbal person," Jack said gently, picking up the book again to make a quick note.

"Yeah, total opposite of Joe. He's much more with the yelling. I hate getting yelled at."

"Not many people enjoy it," he said, adding another note. Damn it that was making me nervous. "So have you thought about getting extra training? You seem to feel you are unprepared for your job."

"Actually, yeah," I shifted a little in my seat, nervous. This was something Stephanie and I differed on. "I was going to ask Ranger if he knew a good place to learn self defense and stuff. Maybe martial arts... "

"That will be tough work."

Was Stephanie's inability to work out really that legendary? Nah, it was probably the squishy bit in the middle that gave it away. "I'm prepared. I'm desperate. Mainly because it isn't just about work, I need some serious toning. I'm fluffy."

He shook his head, apparently unsure of how to reply safely. Smart boy. "I do have a number for a friend of mine, he runs a gym downtown, but he gives classes."

I looked at Jack then, noting the military hairstyle, the pressed and dressed GAP look that didn't quite manage to disguise his physique was a bit above average. He was definitely a RangeMan type. I wondered how I'd missed it before. Probably the lack of a snake tattoo on his forehead, or visible gang markings. All of Ranger's guys in the books seemed to ooze the aura of Rent-a-thugs, aside maybe from Cal.

"Is he anything like the rest of you? Cause I'd really like to be able to survive this..."

Jack laughed. "He's a good teacher. You'll survive. It won't be painless, though."

"That's fine. I can handle it." _I hope._ Hey, none of that. I straightened my spine. I'm a dancer. I'm not afraid of pain. Choreography is from the ancient Greek word meaning 'The gods want to see how much pain your body can handle.' I could work around pain.

Jack eyed me, and I could almost see him mentally calculating my odds for survival. I raised my eyebrow and waited for the verdict. He shook his head finally and handed me a card from the desk.

"So, doc? Am I crazy?"

He shook his head, his lips tilting up in the promise of a smile. "I think you're confused, stressed, and you need to gain confidence in yourself. Self defense classes will go a long way to help you get more comfortable in your own skin."

In my own... Eek! Was it that obvious?

He held out a hand to help me up, giving me a full smile now. "You'll be fine, Stephanie," he said as I took his hand and he easily hauled me to my feet.

"Thank you, for everything... and for last night. You made a great dance partner, and an even better therapist."

"It was my pleasure, on both counts," he laughed. "I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to keep up with you- I haven't danced that much since college."

"Me either," I said honestly. So what if that had been all of two days ago. "Maybe we could do it again sometime... unless you aren't allowed to dance with patients."

"It isn't exactly encouraged," he sounded regretful, then gave me a flirtatious wink. "But maybe we should meet up for dinner some time to discuss your progress, since I think Mac's class should benefit you more anyway."

"Dinner? I'd like that," I said as he ushered me toward the door.

"Good, I'll call you." He held out a set of keys. "And now you're free to go."

"Thanks, Jack. Just one more question." He tilted his head and waited, I grinned. "Where's my car exactly?"

Thankfully Jack decided it was easier just to guide me to it than risk me wandering through the parking garage by myself. Not that I didn't feel safe, but come on, Ranger employs nothing but huge hulking rent-a-thugs. Sue me for not being eager to meet one of them in a dark enclosed area. Although Jack was definitely a pleasant exception to the rule. I could meet up with Jack in any darkened area he chose... ack, damn it, no. Focus, Alyssa. You haven't got the time for this unless he asks you out.

But again, what kind of guy actually calls when he says he will? Exactly.

In order to keep myself from thinking about my new possible date too much I pulled into traffic and dialed one of the numbers I'd found in the phone: Mr. Alexander. Time to make a serious hair appointment. No more _Felicity_ Does _Flash Dance._ What do you know? He was overjoyed to hear from me and squeezed me in for the very next day.

This was going to be one hell of a test though- you might be able to fool friends, family, psychiatrists and even beloved family pets, but the hair stylist? That's a whole new ball game. I'd worry about it later. My only concern at this moment was getting rid of that nightmarish image I'd had to deal with this morning. I couldn't imagine why the girl would live with hair like this when there are so many ways to fix it...

Okay, enough hair stressing. I'm still a bounty hunter, so I should hunt some bounties. Oh yeah, and look for Evelyn and Annie too. Hm, good thing I already knew what was up with them. They were probably in contact with Evelyn's childhood best friend... what was her name? Crap. Um. Dorothy? Daily? Danny? No, none of those. Ugh. I was going to have to call someone... I pulled into a Subway shop and snagged the folder still residing in the passenger seat. Mabel's number was on the top of page one. Yippee, no having to go by the Freak Show that Stephanie called home.

I dialed Mabel and waited. It took a couple rings but she finally picked up. "Mabel, this is Stephanie Plum."

"Oh, hello dear," she said in a pleasant old lady voice, sounding eerily like my own grandma, aside from the ever-present Yankee accent. "I heard about your apartment! It's just terrible what some people will do-"

"It's nothing. A couple garden snakes or some such. Just scaly, not even poisonous," I interrupted, waving away her concern. Not like I was there. "Anyway, I was hoping you could help me. I need to know if Evelyn had a really close friend or anything. Someone she grew up with that she might get in contact with?"

"Oh, well, there was Dotty Palowski. They went all through school together, then Evelyn got married and Dotty moved away. I think they've lost touch though."

Yes! Score! "Her parents are still in the Burg aren't they?"

"Yes, they just live a few streets away."

"Thanks, Mabel. I'll get back to you soon! Have a nice day," I added, while we exchanged goodbyes like normal human beings. So nice, don't you think? Saying goodbye before you hang up with someone? Yeah, I thought so too. Somewhere down on my list is tricking Ranger and in fact this whole place in to taking phone etiquette classes. A pipe dream, I know, but I can wish.

Next order of business... checking out my business. To the office! I angled the CR-V out of the Subway lot and back into traffic, consulting my map occasionally for directions.

Uh-oh. The map. It was jus sitting out on the passenger seat, open for the world... Okay, don't freak. Nothing unusual in a map. Probably Tank or whoever didn't even notice it, much less remark on it to Ranger. Right? Yeah, exactly. It's just a map. With the office, my apartment, and Stephanie's mom and dad's marked...

Oh look, the office. Let's think about the office. Wonder if Lula feels as rough as I do? I was almost there when the sky opened up at let loose with a torrential downpour. Geez, I hate driving in rain.

I pulled into the parking lot and made a mad dash for the door, breathing a sigh of relief when I made it to the safety of the overhang. Inside Lula was lying on the couch with something pressed over her eyes while Connie typed away at the computer. She looked up at smiled at me.

"Looks like you two had a long night."

"Majorly," I said, glancing back at Lula. "You okay?"

"Okay? Fuckin' A I'm not," Lula muttered, pulling the compress away to glare at me. "You take off with Batman and here it is noon and you ain't called with no details!"

"Well, you didn't call me to let me know how it went with Tank," I retorted. "And since you hooked up first, you spill first."

"It went damn good with Tank," Lula said, her scowl melting into something much more pleasant. "Damn good."

"Wow," Connie shook her head admiringly. "Must have been a hell of a night," she turned to fix me with an eagle eye. "But I want to hear about you and the Wizard."

"Yeah, did he live up to that fine body?" Lula was actually siting up now, the hangover forgotten. Amazing, the power of hormonal curiosity. Too bad I'd have to disappoint her.

"It didn't go anywhere with Ranger. I was way too drunkl," I looked remorseful for added emphasis. Well, it didn't really go anywhere, did it, aside from the kiss, and the kiss was just a kiss- with major benefits.

"That sucks," Lula sighed, returning to her former position. I shrugged. It did suck, but not as badly as if I really was Stephanie.

"Connie I need to talk to Dotty Palowski. Could you pull it up for me?" The keys clipped away and a few moment later I had my answer.

"She's Dotty Rheinhold now, "Connie said as the printer kicked on. "Divorced, two kids, living in South River. Works for the Turnpike Aurthority." Blech.

Dude, what is with this place? Everyone works for authorities, or button factories, or tampon factories, or as a cop. I was finally getting a concept of 'blue collar areas.' It was a lot more depressing than I'd thought it was. Beginning to miss back home, with its own slightly more offbeat brand of blue collar, I barely heard Connie's continued spiel.

I missed the farms, the town parks, the bigger yards. I missed Garth Brooks and Toby Keith. I missed parties in Headless Woman Woods and all the other stupid things I used to hate. Gravel roads, rodeos. Urgh, never mind. Rodeos made me think of Daddy, wonder what he was up to. Would he be helping grandpa out on the farm or out on the ranch in Oklahoma? He'd probably be judging a rodeo somewhere this weekend, too. Christ I sounded like a bad country song. Take me home, to the place where I belong...

The feeling of the hairs on the back of my neck standing up jerked me out of my thoughts a moment before someone's hand settled on the base of my neck. Oh, hello Ranger. Nice to see you too.

"You look distracted," he said.

"Just thinking."

He motioned toward the door and I followed him out, grabbing the paper from the printer on my way. We stood next to each other under the overhang, and I concentrated on staring out at the dreary wet world. No way was I looking him in the eye for a good week or more.

"Jack give you that much to think over?" his voice was quiet, carefully nonthreatening.

"Yes, and no. I'm worried about this case, too." Yeah, that sounded good. The case. Talk about the case. "I'm having zero luck finding the kid."

"You're not the only one." Huh? Aren't I the only one looking-- oh yeah. Catwoman was in this thing too, wasn't she? Hey, maybe I could just let her handle this. She's good, right? And I'm way below even Stephanie's level. This is a good idea...

"Jeanne Ellen's looking for her, huh?" I turned then, finally giving up and facing him. Damn, he was hot. I swear he could single-handedly set off a SWAT trend. And keep it going, too. He inclined his head a little. "Thought so. Hope she finds her if I don't... I gotta go chase Bender again." I smiled at him. "Later, Ranger."

And I dashed out into the rain, throwing myself into the CR-V. I pulled out of the parking lot, feeling immensely better. I always wanted to do that- make Stephanie leave first. Joe and Ranger always left first, you never had Steph just walk off. It was fun. I needed to do it more often. In fact, now that I was pretty sure Janet wasn't going to swoop down and smite me, I had a lot more ideas about what needed to change.

And if she had a problem with it, she could send me home_. 'Hear that Janet?'_ I thought pointedly at the sky. _'Send me home or I'm going to play hell with your plotlines!'_

Not even a rumble of thunder for an answer. How pathetic.

To prove what I thought of that, I decided Bender could wait. Who wanted to haul an icky drunk when it was raining anyway? There were more important things to do, like- - answering my cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Stephanie, it's Jack. I was wondering if you might be free tomorrow night?"

"You sure move fast. I was a patient about an hour ago..."

"What can I say? I'm an opportunist."

Hey, Ranger's lines again... hm, Stephanie would probably say no, since she has enough male issues...

"Tomorrow night... I'm pretty sure I could clear my schedule, for a good enough reason.."

"How about dinner at Rossini's, eight o'clock?"

"Would this include tiramisu?"

He laughed. "You drive a hard bargain, but I think I could arrange it."

"I'd say we have an accord."

"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty." And he disconnected.

What was it I was saying about that phone etiquette class? I sighed and tossed the phone to the passenger seat. See, I knew there was a reason I shouldn't go after Bender- I needed to do some serious shopping.

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 9

I turned the car toward the mall, but was struck by a sudden thought. What was I doing? No amount of new clothes in the world were going to help me out of the fluffy factor! I was grossly close to pulling a complete Stephanie. I mentally slapped myself and changed directions..

Scrap the mall, I was going to check out the new gym, but I needed to change first. No more dark red pleather and chemise, thank you.

I pulled into the parking lot, of course getting the furthest spot away. I had to run my happy little butt to the door, in the heels. God I was soaked. I hate rain. I shivered and chattered up the flight of stairs and got all the way to Stephanie's apartment and sent a silent thanks to Janet for her only having a couple keys. One was the CR-V, one was a mailbox, leaving two possibilities. I got lucky on the first try. I really needed to learn the difference. Later. If I don't wake up.

There were no signs of snakes or any other creepy crawlies so I assumed Animal Control or whoever had done their duty. I just peeled off the wet pleather, the damp silk top and hopped into the shower. It wasn't actually going to do any good, but it would warm me up.

I got out, quickly toweled off, slipped on a pair of gray sweat pants (thank you God not the kind with elastic around the ankles and waist) a sports bra and a cute blue t-shirt. Then I set to work on anti-frizzing the hair.

Almost an hour later I was dried, gelled, and munching on a piece of bread, which I shared with the hamster. I'm not much of a pet person, but he was cute and low maintenance. This I could handle.

"Have fun, Rex," I called to him on my way out. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Which admittedly, left only a small amount of highly criminal, insanely dangerous, or desperately imaginative activities, none of which would be attributed to a hamster.

A half an hour and several wrong turns later I was in front of the address listed on the card Jack gave me. I didn't know what I was expecting- something much more bright shiny Bally Total Fitness probably. This was much more... _Street Fighter_. A reclaimed warehouse from the look of it, in a seedy looking area. Well, then again, most of this town looked seedy to me, so what did I know?

I swallowed hard and forced one foot in front of the other until I was inside, which wasn't much more comforting than the exterior. It was clean, at least, with only the faint smell of sweaty guy to flash me back to that long-ago bus. I stood next to the counter, taking in the reception area before I focused much past it. There was a doorway on the left leading to a weight room by the sounds of grunts and clinking metal drifting out, and a few more resistance type machines on the other end of the lobby area, currently occupied by a couple muscle-bound hulks. Past them was what looked like an elevator. The right wall had another couple doors and a window I assumed looked into an office.

"Can I help you?" The deep voice startled me and I turned around, almost too quickly. It took a second for my eyes to focus on the speaker, but when they did- Hello Nurse! Tall, muscular, tanned, and tasty. The guy was maybe a touch over six feet, dark hair caught back in a ponytail, dressed in black. I would have thought he was Ranger except he was definitely Caucasian and had thinner lips and green eyes.

What is it with this place? Do they grow these guys on trees?

"Um, yeah," I said, cringing at the breathy, cutesy quality of my own voice. "I'm looking for Mac."

Tall, Tanned, and Tasty looked at me closely. At least his eyes didn't linger on my boobs. "You're speaking to him."

I caught a trace of an accent in his voice, not the normal Yankee sound but too faint for me to make out. Make out. Yeah, I think that would be fun... Oh, god damn it Alyssa. I cursed my nymphomaniac self mentally.

"Hi!" I said, offering my hand. "Jack sent me over, he said you're the person to ask about self-defense training."

Mac's very large hand engulfed mine in a firm shake as a wide smile brightened his chiseled features. He looked much less forbidding this way, which allowed me to relax a tiny bit.

"You must be Stephanie." _Ooh, gotta love that ESP._ "Jack told me you'd be dropping by. Let me give you the tour."

I didn't even have time to protest before I was caught up in Mac's wake. Wow, a guy who talked as much as I do. Yay! Real conversations!

Mac took me through the weight room, talked me through resistance training, and gave a brief overview of nutrition before we even made it to the studio. Well, he had some Japanese term for it, but it was a large, wooden-floored room with mirrors. Call it what you want, to a dance girl that's a studio with or without the punching bags and mats.

"How much are the classes?" I asked when he finally finished giving the lecture.

He looked at me strangely. "Your boss is paying."

"Vinnie?" I raised my eyebrows to give him a disbelieving stare.

"Nah, RangeMan."

Oh, gag me with a dead smurfette.

"You didn't know?" Mac prodded. I shook my head, giving up. I could smack Ranger later. Then again, hell no. I'm in college, I know the value of a freebie.

"Nope. I wasn't even aware they were employing me again." Must not have taken her quite as off his employee roster as Stephanie thought.

Mac laughed at that. "Ranger must have forgot to mention it."

"He forgets to mention a lot," I waved it off. "So, when do we start? And if you say now, can we please take it easy. My hangover isn't gone yet, at it's partially Jack's fault."

"Ah, Vulcan Mind Probes," Mac nodded knowingly.

"You got it in one."

"How about a warm up and some basic moves?"

I nodded and stood up, and he began adjusting my posture, showing me how to square off, and how to block. Even though he went slowly I could quickly tell how totally out of shape this body was. I was tired after half an hour, and the first fall almost killed me.

It was going to be a lot of work.

An hour later I collapsed on the mat, sweaty, exhausted, but oddly exhilarated. I had finally gotten the hang of the wrist move he'd been showing me. Very handy if someone grabbed your arm and you didn't want to be grabbed. Jack was right- Mac was an excellent teacher.

He was also an excellent flirt and an excellent hottie. I was never going to miss a class. Session. Lesson... Whatever the hell you wanted to call getting to roll around on a mat with a totally gorgeous guy for free. I had reconsidered my irritation with Ranger. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, and in fact I was giving serious thought to sending him a thank you note.

"You did pretty well, for a first timer," he said amiably, tossing me a bottle of water.

"And you did pretty well at kicking my ass,' i laughed.

Mac grinned. "You sure you're okay? You fell pretty hard a couple of times."

You're telling me genius. I'm going to be immobile tomorrow. Mentally I knew how to take a fall, how to land without serious injury, but this body wasn't trained to react. It had kind of pissed me off the first few times, but it was learning. Or I was. Either way, I was beginning to get a little more comfortable in the skin.

"Hey, don't worry about me. I've been dropped from higher places than your shoulder. I'm tough." And that was the truth. You don't know pain until your dance partner tosses you around like a hackey sack and misses the catch or you land a splits and strain a tendon, or go on pointe and break your big toes, or... Okay, you get the idea. Possibly getting shot could hurt worse, but I had my doubts.

"Well you look like a powder puff."

I rolled my eyes. "You macho guys are sooo shallow," I quipped, tossing my ponytail for added effect. He snorted trying to hide the laugh.

"Cute."

"Always and forever." I hopped to my feet and took a drink of the water. "Thanks for the lesson."

"Anytime, Stephanie," he said, taking a moment to look over my currently extremely disheveled state. "Take tomorrow to recuperate though. You might want to invest in some heat pads and ice packs." Not to mention buying stock in Advil, which would probably come in handy if I kept this routine up.

I nodded and walked to the wall to grab my jacket while Mac waited by the door to walk me out. As we walked, I felt Mac's gaze keep shifting to me. I might not have known him for more than an hour and a half, but I was pretty sure there was something he was itching to ask me.

"Spit it out, please. You're making me twitchy."

He raised an eyebrow at that expression, but his lips curved upward in a Ranger-esque minimal smile. It's official, they really do grow them on trees somewhere. There's a whole field full of dangerously sexy dudes somewhere, just hanging around on trees like an orchard. I think they call it Shangri-La...

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Making girls twitchy."

I told you, I told you, I told you. Now I need to find that place and never leave. I grinned, half at what he said, half at my inner realization of my new quest in life.

"Actually, I was wondering about you. Never known Ranger to be much..." he paused as if looking for the most politically correct term, "involved with women, if you understand me."

I laughed. Yeah, somehow I kind of figured that one. "He's finding it amusing to play part-time Professor Higgins," I shrugged. "and I think I keep him entertained... " I shot a glance at him to cut off the inevitable comment. "In a what-the-hell-is-she-going-to-do-next kind of way, not in the let's-have-sex way. Which is probably a new thing for him. I'd imagine he's more into the sex-now-think-later gigs."

Mac blinked once like I'd nailed him between the eyes with my purse, then threw back his head and laughed. "You must drive him nuts." I smiled, trying my best to look sweet and innocent, which just made him laugh harder.

"I don't mean to," I told him. Well, Stephanie didn't mean to. I on the other hand, didn't care much. I liked Ranger, but even as hot and obviously talented as he was, I wasn't going to think he was God's gift to women. Joe either. The boys had had life way too easy- sharing Stephanie just between the two of them. Well, I'm a whole new girl, and it was going to be a whole new game.

We were at the door now and Mac took my hand, giving it a friendly shake, then holding it for a second after. "Monday, same time."

"Cool," I nodded. "I'll be there," I turned to and stopped, my foot halfway out the door. Something was different. It had stopped raining, but it wasn't that... I frowned, looking up and down the street. Something was... "My car's gone!" I yelped, stepping the rest of the way out of the building, scanning the surroundings, like I expected it to show up in some random place like a rooftop. No such luck though. Mac walked out to stand next to me.

"What was it?" Huh, past tense. Guess this really wasn't a great neighborhood.

"A black CR-V." Please don't ask me the year. I don't have a clue.

"The kids around here are getting pretty bad about stealing suv's,' Mac sighed. "Come on back to the office, we'll call the cops."

Eeep. Cops? Cops... I cringed. Please please let this one be one Stephanie doesn't know. I am too tired to act today...

Forty five minutes later a blue an white pulled up and a younger cop climbed out, one who's name didn't match the descriptions in my head for any of the cops Stephanie regularly interacted with. He ambled over and practically stared at me.

"You're Stephanie Plum aren't you?" he asked. Oh boy.

"Yes. And half of what you've heard was not my fault or is completely made up."

"Can you give me the license plate number?"

"Um, not really... I-- I haven't had it that long..."

He grinned, like he was expecting that answer. "Don't worry. You're on the quick reference at the DMV."

"Figures. At least I had my purse and stuff with me." But not my file on Abruzzi, or my map, or the yellow pages... Merde.

A few more questions and the cop went on his way, leaving me simply thankful that Morelli hadn't put in an appearance. I was delaying dealing with him- he made me feel guilty. I don't know how the hell Steph dealt with it- feeling bad for choosing her job and stuff, much less the yelling. I hated yelling in an argument: it reminded me of my parents and memories I preferred to leave to another world. Joe made me yell, and he yelled, and he made me feel guilty. It gave me an instinctual urge to kick him and run, probably a result of being raised by a militant feminist. I sighed, zoning out as I watched the blue and white cop car drive away, adding it all to my list of grievances. Janet's letter was getting longer by the minute.

I nearly jumped a foot when Mac's hand settled on my shoulder. "I'll give you a ride," he said, smirking a little. "If you promise to be more-"

"Aware of my surroundings? You sound like Ranger," I wrinkled my nose at the thought. Poor Ranger he's going to have no lines left. "I promise though. It's just been a really long day. And you don't need to take me home, I'll call for a ride."

"I insist," he said, grinning. "Come on," he added, taking my arm. "I promise you're going to love my car."

He led me back inside the building and on through to the back. And he was right. I did love his car. This wasn't just a car, though. This was a Viper, blood red and shiny. I licked my lips just looking at it. I'm not much of a car girl, can barely change a tire, but some cars are just sex with wheels. I didn't need to ask how his car managed to not be stolen, it was the same reason Ranger could drive his Mercedes into the ghetto: Car thieves are generally not suicidal.

"Still want to call for a ride?" He was laughing at my expression.

"No. I'm in love with yours," I told him, still spellbound by the bright shiny metallic orgasm sitting in front of me.

"Damn, and I haven't even revved the engine yet."

I laughed and shot him an impish look. "Careful, you shouldn't overexcite a girl after a workout like I just had. I'm likely to swoon."

"Swooning is better that twitchy. I could handle swooning," he said with a wink, opening the passenger door for me. Ah, and who said chivalry is dead?

I slipped into the car and smiled. I waited until he slid behind the wheel to speak. "You just wanted to make sure I'd come back."

"Please, baby, I had you from hello," he laughed, revving the engine before we eased out of the lot and onto the street. "Now where to?"

I recited the address and relaxed into the seat to enjoy the ride. How anyone can not adore sleek, fast, gorgeous cars is just beyond me. Trucks, SUV's, have at them, I want a sporty car.

The ride wasn't nearly long enough, and too soon we were pulling to a stop outside Stephanie's building.

"Thanks, Mac," I said with a grateful smile. "It was a great ride."

"My pleasure, beautiful," he grinned. "It's the least I can do after you lose your car like that."

"Please, it's a given. The Car Gods hate me." _And Janet wrote it that way._ "I'll see you Monday."

"Wait!" he said, putting a hand on my arm to stop me from climbing out. "Take this." He pulled a card from the console and held it out. I took it and examined it- just a business card for the gym, but on the back were a couple extra numbers written in a clear bold hand. I looked up at him, curious. "Those are the numbers for my cell and my pager. Call me if you need anything." I smiled at the lack of icky emphasis on 'anything.'

"Aye-aye, Captain. Thanks again." He nodded, his eyes amused, and I finally angled out of the car.

I watched him drive away with a mixture of confusion and giddiness. Two hot new guys in one day, one with a date already set up one who just gave me his non-business numbers. Oh yeah, I rock. I am the goddess. I repressed the urge to do a victory dance, and settled for giving myself a victory pampering when I got to the apartment.

I was already plotting out which lotions to use when I climbed the last stair and entered the hallway, which was unfortunately occupied A tall and decidedly male figure with a very cute butt was loitering outside Stephanie's door.

Fuck! I tried to slip back into the stairway.

"Cupcake! I heard about your car..."

Here we go again. Screw the angry letter. Janet, I'm going to beat you when I get back.


	9. Chapter 10

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** No Janets were harmed in the making of this fan fic.

**Note:** We solemnly swear we are up to no good.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I gritted my teeth and turned back to face my opponent. Okay, so he wasn't actually an opponent, more like that unlucky penny you just can't seem to permanently get yourself away from. At least he was cute, even if I sort of thought the penny would buy me more stuff. Morelli didn't seem to be the buy you lot's of stuff kind of guy I preferred to date. I'm not shallow, I just enjoy tokens of affection, like flowers or teddy bears, jewelry even.

I looked at Morelli, playing the consummate bad boy in his fitted jeans, leather biker jacket, complete with sexy touseled hair and a motorcycle helmet under one arm. Not a lot of flowers and teddy bears coming from that direction. And if the books read right, not a lot of hot clubs or show tickets either. Janet, is it too much to ask that a guy be at once sexy, nice, and willing to pamper a girl with something besides oral sex or a Porsche?

Don't answer that.

"My car, huh?" I asked, walking to the door and unlocking it. "Thanks for checking up on me."

Morelli followed me in and made himself at home, placing the helmet on the counter before opening the fridge. _Must remember he is the ex, must remember not to lecture on manners..._

"So," he said, apparently giving up on the empty fridge to turn back to me. "Where were you last night?" The light in his eyes was dangerous, pushy. Mom's ex-boyfriend cop used to have the same look right before he interrogated my boyfriends.

"Out," I said with a shrug, brushing past him to pull out a box of Wheat Thins.

"Out?" uh oh, the volume was up a notch. "Someone is pissed off enough to leave a bag of snakes on your doorstep, and you're out by yourself-"

"I had Lula with me," I interjected. Morelli rolled his eyes.

"With Lula, unreachable, anything could have happened..."

"Damn Joe, those maternal instincts sure do kick in after thirty..." I couldn't help it, my mouth just ran away with my brain. I shoved a Wheat Thin in my mouth and munched it to endure his glare without further risks.

"Why do I bother? You drive me crazy! Do you know that?" He seethed, although his voice lowered a little.

"You know the old saying, something about a short trip... Anyway, I'm sorry. I didn't hear my phone over the noise in the club, and I was probably too drunk to answer anyway. I got this speech from Ranger already, though, so if you don't mind can we skip to the end?"

"Ranger?" Morelli's eyes narrowed. Whoops, wrong time to mention that name. I cringed as he raked a hand through his hair and looked murderous. "Is that where you were last night? You weren't here, or with your parents. Lula was off with his right-hand thug..."

"Actually, yeah. He thought I was too drunk to leave me by myself," _at least I assumed that was the reason, _"so he let me crash at his apartment over the Cameron office. No biggie."

"Right, and that's all that happened?" He snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, Joe, that's all. I was too drunk and he doesn't take advantage of that, whatever else you think about him."

"And that makes him a saint on Earth..." he scoffed.

"No," I glared at him for that. "But I somehow doubt I could say the same thing for you. Now, like I said, thanks for checking on me, but I'm fine. I'm exhausted and I need some peace and quiet." I gestured toward the door, slipping a fake smile onto my face and hoping for the best

"You're a piece of work, Cupcake," Joe smirked. "Defending that two-bit mercenary when-"

"I didn't defend him, really. It was more that I insulted you," I explained with false patience. "Let me give you a hint: From now on, it might benefit you to spend more time and attention on any relationship between us than a possible relationship between me and Ranger, or me and anyone else for that matter." I felt it better to drop that particular hint now, so he couldn't say he'd had no warning later, but I didn't think he caught it.

"Excuse me? We don't have a relationship, you broke up with me," Morelli pointed out, taking a step toward me.

"There are all kinds of broken up, which do you want to be?" I asked, tilting my head to the side, curious. "Do you prefer we remain friends, we cut off all contact, we secretly despise one another while keeping a publicly amicable facade, or we flat out hate one another? Because if you keep trashing my friends, you're definitely aiming at the last one."

Morelli's frown deepened as I listed the choices, then remained silent for a long moment after I finished. "What the hell are you talking about, Stephanie?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm talking about you laying off of Ranger. Green doesn't suit you."

Morelli scowled, then made his move too quickly for me to avoid. He grabbed my shirt, pulled me to him, and kissed me. Did I mention he was a good kisser, like, championship quality kisser? I almost lost it, almost wrapped myself around him and surrendered to the liquid fire racing through my veins. Almost.

Instead I placed my hands flat against his chest and shoved away from him. He looked as surprised as I was to find us separated again, although he still had a firm hold on my shirt.

"Not nice, Joseph," I gasped. "Go find someone else to play with, I'm disinclined to indulge you."

Joe shook his head, puzzled. "You drive me crazy."

And you give me the urge to nail you in the shins, Joey Boy. I just shrugged at the accusation and let him storm out the door in a possibly deserved Italian temper. I liked the guy, but he needed to be taught a lesson. Kind of like Batman.

I smiled to myself and turned to my silent partner. "It's definitely time Batman and the Italian Stallion take a lesson from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, isn't it, Hamtaro?"

Rex stopped running on the wheel long enough to give me what I considered a conspiratorial look. See, the hamster agrees, and he's usually the brightest one in the stories. I turned my thoughts to the fun plans I'd been formulating while I got ready to jump in the shower.

Stephanie might think best lying flat on the bed, but I get my greatest ideas in the shower. All that time lathering, rinsing, shaving and scrubbing gave my brain plenty of time to think, probably because I've never been distracted by the shower massager, preferring as I did to self-combust in a proper bed. Self-combusting in a shower or even a tub just sounded like an accident waiting to happen. And knowing Janet's twisted sense of humor, I wasn't about to risk trying it out. Ever.

Unfortunately the shower didn't give me any great insights tonight, just time to think over my situation. I still probably had Abruzzi after me, despite my complete ignoring of the entire case. I still had to hook up Valerie and Albert Kloughn, although I personally saw absolutely no reason on earth why I should do so. I had avoided Kloughn contamination so far, why spoil it now? And from my brief exposure to them at the hospital I'd already had enough of Stephanie's family and sibling for a lifetime, except for Grandma Mazur. I liked her, and possibly the Dad.

As for Mrs. Plum and Valerie, I had the unholy urge to hook them up with some Prozac. Okay, so I was actually thinking more along the lines of magic brownies, but that would be wrong. Funny, but wrong. Appropriate, but wrong. Hilarious, but wrong. I sighed to myself as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I really wasn't evil, I was just... creative.

Anyway, I had more important things than families that weren't mine to worry about: I had a date tomorrow with a really cute psychiatrist. Who worked for Ranger. I giggled as I started working some anti-frizz stuff through my hair, wondering what the man in black thought of Stephanie dating one of his employees. Even more intriguing was what Joe was going to think when he found out Stephanie was out on a date at Rossini's with a RangeMan employee.

I paused, looking at the girl in the mirror thoughtfully. I knew their reactions would be very telling, whatever they were. Well, maybe with Ranger his lack of reaction might have been a better way to word it. Joe was just going to be stunned, and then move straight to pissed most likely, but Ranger was another ballgame. He cared about her a lot more than he let on, I knew this already from lifelong exposure to cowboys. And a cowboy by any other term is still a cowboy. It's just a different pair of boots.

Thinking about cowboys brought me back to my wider dilemma: The fact that the girl in the mirror was still not me. I was more comfortable in her skin, I was adjusting to her life- okay, I was adjusting her life to me- but it boiled down to the same in the end: I could not and would not be Stephanie Plum. Not now, not ever. She and I were alike, but we were very much from different worlds. And I would, eventually need to leave hers. My dream theory was falling by the wayside with each passing moment, but what other explanation did I have?

The blue eyes that weren't mine showed my inner worries, the edge of fear that was beginning to creep into me. Where was the real Stephanie? Was she even now adjusting my life as I was adjusting hers? Was she dead? I shivered at that thought, my imagination spinning it out into a story on its own. Maybe that was the problem: we were both dead, but I'd been given one of those second chance deals like in the movies? You know, where George Carlin or some comedian plays the bumbling St. Peter, who offers the mortal another chance at life in someone else's body with entertaining results?

I was giving myself a headache, I realized. I slowly closed my eyes and concentrated, going through my old standby chakra-cleansing ritual. I was muddled, too muddled to be useful to myself. I needed clarity. After a quick run down my chakra points, I resumed working on my hair. As soon as I was gelled and ready, I headed to bed. As my beloved inner Scarlett directed, I would think about it tomorrow.

I put on a pair of cute boy cut undies, a large t-shirt and slipped into bed. The day's accomplishments: I'd kept the New Jersey accent gone the whole time, I had been the first to exit a conversation with Ranger, I'd started exercising, scored a date, scored some digits, and I'd resisted a Morelli kiss. All in all, not bad for my second day as a lunatic. I smiled contentedly as I drifted off. Not bad at all...

I didn't feel like I'd been asleep for more than a moment when I was jolted awake again. I frowned into the darkness of a room I didn't recognize, remaining completely still until I could remember who and where I was. The clock by the bed said it was two in the morning. I hate cities- probably some stupid kid's car backfiring or... I rolled over and nearly screamed. Someone was staning outside the window. Oh my god... someone really big and muscular and...

I was frozen in place, barely breathing, waiting for the hulking shadow to move. Waiting... Waiting... Waiting... I bit my lip and started counting in my head. I got to a hundred and I hadn't even seen the guy take a breath. Freakish. Okay, maybe he's passed out... if I move really, really slowly...

I scooted myself backward toward the other edge of the bed as slowly as I could, keeping my eyes glued to the unmoving shadow. Maybe he wasn't looking in, maybe he was just outside looking at the glorious view of nothing... I tumbled backward off the bed and into a very painful heap on the floor, taking the blankets with me and letting out a very loud shriek.

I fought the blankets off and scrambled for the door, before the intruder could attack me-- I paused at the door and looked back.He was just standing there. Okay, what the--- "JANET!" I yelled furiously, as the truth finally dawned on me. "You WENCH!" I added as I stormed toward the window and yanked it open.

The cardboard cut-out of Benito Ramirez nearly fell on top of me. Instead I caught it and dragged it into the apartment before slamming the window shut once again. I stomped back over to the wall and flipped on the lights. God, he was ugly. Who the hell wanted a life-size replica of that mug?

I was so pissed I was shaking. Fuckers. At least this gave me something to do with my anger. I grabbed the cutout by its head and dragged it into the hallway, out to the living room where I left it in front of the TV while I flipped on more lights and ransacked the kitchen drawers until I found the objects I was looking for.

I stood over Ramirez's likeness with an exacto knife and a sharpie, and I was pretty sure the look on my face could have been described as 'unholy glee.'

"Sorry Benny-boo, but I'm feeling creative again. I know you understand," I told the cutout as sweetly as I could while I flipped on the television and set to work. "I've been missing my art class anyway," I added, laughing as the TV began playing the title song to Clueless. Behind Buffy, Cher was my second idol.

I sang along with the music as I popped the lid off the Sharpie. "I'm gonna be a supermodel..." In fact I was so intent on my new project I didn't realize someone was at the door until the security chain slid free. I sent a cursory glance to the door in time to see a flash of mocha skin and black cargos and rolled my eyes.

"Yo," I called out. "There's this thing normal people do, tapping knuckles against the door- it makes this really cool knocking noise. Ever heard of it?"

"Babe-" There was a beat of silence, and then another. I sort of felt him moving further into the room before he spoke again. "What are you doing?"

"Making a message. I'm going for 'Fuck the hell off and take your stupid Hannibal Lector wannabe pranks with you, you little Napoleonic Creep,' but I'm not sure it's clear enough yet..." I sat back and admired my handiwork critically. "I think it needs some bubblegum pink liptick... maybe blue eyeshadow. Or would that be overdoing it?" I looked up to get his opinion.

Ranger's eyebrows were both raised as he eyed my creation. "Interesting message."

"They left the stupid thing on my fire escape, and it disturbed my beauty sleep. Plus it really pissed me off."

"I can tell."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry, I'm calmed down now. Art is therapeutic, you know."

"Yeah, maybe you should show this to Jack?"

"Why?" I asked, holding up my hand to let him pull me to my feet. "This is Abysmal's message. Fucker. I was having this really nice dream too, about Russell Crowe in that gladiator outfit-" Ranger's arms pulled me into a hug, short circuiting my brain. Mmm, Ranger hug. Bulgari. Russell who? I leaned against him and laughed when he kissed my forehead.

"That why you ah... mutilated him?" Typical guy, focusing on the hole in the crotch.

"Nah, that was just for general principles. The warning list of STD's on his back is the revenge for Maximus."

* * *


	10. Chapter 11

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I promise I'll put them all back, completely undamaged... except the Merry Men. Chelsea just stole two of them and we can't figure out where she put them... and come to think of it Renee disappeared with Joe like two days ago...

Note: You're still reading this? Wow, you're a braver soul than I.

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"Remind me not to interrupt your beauty sleep anytime soon," he said with a hint of a laugh.

"Damn skippy" I grinned, pulling away to look up at him.

Ranger's lips turned up in the ghost of a smile. "We need to talk, Babe."

I sighed and disengaged myself from him. "Cool. The feeling is mutual. Have a seat, I'm going to go grab the eye shadow and gloss for Benny-Boo."

Ranger's smile widened. "Interesting name."

"Works better than Benito Voodoo," I laughed, hurrying off to rescue the necessary supplies from the bathroom drawer.

I returned victorious and resumed by place on the floor to start applying the eye shadow and Ranger sat down on the couch watching me with mild interest. "What did you want to talk about?" I asked him without looking up. Getting this right on cardboard was going to be a pain...

"Several things."

Oh, boy. This might not be good. Distract him! "Hey, first can I ask how I'm getting self-defense lessons paid for? I thought I was off your roster."

"More that you're inactive at the moment." Ah, well, yes, that just completely clears that up...

I finished up the eyes and moved on to painting the lips. "Inactive still gets defense moves?"

Ranger ignored me. "Stephanie-" He used the full name, run for it! Defcon 5. Danger Will Robinson! Abort the mission!!!

I turned to look at him, the demented art project instantly forgotten. When all else fails, use eye contact and pull out the big guns. My eyes looked into his and I tried to appear concerned. "Look, is this about my date with Jack?"

He straightened a little at that, you could almost see his bat senses honing in. "Your date?"

"Well, maybe date isn't the right word. We're meeting up for dinner tomorr- er, make that tonight," I said with a small almost nervous smile. "But I understand your concern, if not the timing of your visit, especially since I'm still technically employed at RangeMan. I didn't realize I'd be seeing a co-worker." Of course, since she/I am possibly going to sleep with the boss, I don't see the issue...

His face was blank again. "There isn't any official company policy about dating a co-worker. But it might get in the way of you working together."

"Hm, I'll be careful." I glanced down to check my work on the cut-out of Ramirez. He looked like a Hispanic Mimi in drag make-up with some graphic tattoos on his cheeks and arms. And the hole through his crotch. There were also some colorful descriptions scrawled across his chest, aside from the list of STD's I'd made on his back. I liked it, and felt much better now that I'd spilled all my irritation with Abruzzi, Janet, and the universe in general onto the cardboard.

"You know, maybe I should keep him instead of just leaving him by the dumpster. He could be my own personal dartboard." The idea held some appeal; I just needed to get some darts.

"Babe," Ranger sighed, bringing my attention back to him. "Why are you going with Jack?"

I frowned, confused by the question. Did he honestly not know what Jack looked like? "He asked me, and he's nice. Plus, he thinks me getting some training will help me more than any amount of shrink time. Maybe he's just using it as a way to monitor my progress." _Yeah, sure, and if you buy that I've got this nifty bridge to sell you in Brooklyn..._

"Morelli isn't going to like it." Ranger was typically unreadable. I wonder if his dislike of Joe isn't just because of Stephanie... Maybe it's because his name has too many syllables. Messes up that 5-syllable count he always goes for. It would explain a lot, like why he never actually uses Stephanie's full name unless dire emergencies are threatening. Usually even then it's a menacing 'Babe.'

"And I would care because?" I shook my head, feeling lost with it all. It was hard for me to remember that Stephanie broke up with Joe on a regular basis but they still got back together. When I drop a guy, it means that it's over. I've never regretted a break up, never taken a guy back, never wanted him back. This breakup, makeup, rinse, repeat thing is confusing to me. Like when you have a favorite healthy snack and then they come out and tell you it's actually fattening...

"He's a good guy, and he loves you." Ranger looked very serious now, every inch the concerned friend. Weird. I took a deep breath and crawled up to sit next to him on the couch. Hey, if he wanted to do concerned and yet sexy friend, who was I to argue? Besides, I needed a couch talk. It's hard this whole being adult and living on your own thing, with no circle of fun and funky roommates and floormates to help you through. No RA's. No Chelsea and Renee... I was feeling depressed again.

Focus Alyssa. Look at Ranger, look at the super sexy yummy chocolate... ack! No, refocus. This is just like sitting down with Steven for a heart-to-heart over smoothies at the Union. Steven. Think Steven. Think gay favorite shopping partner... I pasted Steven's head on Ranger and started talking. _Thank you Mommy for the billions of hours of visualizations practice._

"That's fine and dandy, but the problem is: Do I love him?" I waited to see if he understood that problem before I continued. "Well, there's also the problem of the fact that he might love me, but I'm not sure he likes me, I mean not the real me." _Yeah, like meaning Alyssa._ Then again, does he even like Stephanie? Hey, there we go, let's follow this... I held up my hand and began ticking points off on my finger, talking to the Steven-face-on-Ranger. "He doesn't like my job, my friends, my choices, my life, my car, my family. Which leaves that he likes my body, and possibly my sense of humor, and what he wants me to be. That's not a lot of love, when you think about it."

Of course, he might just be bitching about a lot of that, and not really dislike it. But if that was the case then he was going to have to say it or show it. I needed proof of emotion from Joe before I let Stephanie stay with him. And the same was going to go for Batman. And damn it, I wanted them to like me, not the me-as-Stephanie. Except that I couldn't be me. I had to be me-as-Stephanie for at least... crap. Like months. That's almost forever! I frowned and waited for a response from Steven-Ranger.

"You've thought this through, then." He sounded... proud. I waved off his remark and shrugged. More like I was stating what was blindingly obvious to an outsider.

"I guess. It's time I made some changes in my life, and this is just one of them."

"What are the others?" he asked, leaning toward me. Crap, there went the Steven face. It was definitely the Cuban Sex God sitting beside me. Oh my god, I was on a couch, with Ranger. Sober. Umm... Hell.

Oh hell, he was going to kiss me... I smirked. Fine, let him kiss me. It wasn't going to distract me. I'm Stephanie, right? I'm used to this... Shut up.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see," I told him, flipping my hair for good measure. _See, I'm not afraid of the Big Bad Merc..._

His eyes shone as his arm wrapped around me to pull me toward him. I didn't even attempt to resist as his lips settled on mine. I always wondered what it would be like to make out on the couch with a super hero.

Somehow the make out session ended before anyone got seriously naked and I wound up slinking back to Stephanie's room with her gun (Ranger's orders) sitting on the nightstand while I slept. Too bad he didn't realize I had only vaguest clue how to fire the stupid thing, much less load and/or aim it. I really needed to fix that.

Unfortunately I didn't get nearly enough sleep, because at nine I was woke up by a loud pounding on my door. I groaned and punched the pillow in frustration before I got up, shuffling toward the door.

"Just a moment!" I yelled to the interloper. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in Stephanie's dresser mirror and made a quick detour to capture my hair in a low ponytail and splash some water onto my bleary face. God, I looked like I'd just had sex or something.

I swung the door open and found myself looking at a large chest. Very large, we're talking redwood-size here. I looked up into the face of a very black guy, who looked very very scary. Not Stephanie's hair scary, more as if he probably knew a hundred and one ways to kill you without drawing blood and was big enough that that wasn't actually your primary concern.

"Good morning, Tank," I said finally, rubbing my eyes to refocus them. Come on, I might be new around here, but how many terrifyingly large and scary dark-as-midnight guys could work for Ranger? Hm, okay, don't answer that I don't want to think about it. "What's up?"

Tank blinked before he answered, as if he hadn't exactly expected me to speak. He held up a familiar set of keys. "We found your car last night, turned up in one of the chop shops."

And how did they- nope, another question I wasn't going to answer. Besides, I had a feeling Ranger probably had a tracker on it anyway. It would explain a lot.

"Thank you," I said, taking the keys. "Is it chopped?"

"All in one piece, Ms. Plum." Bleh, I didn't like that title.

"Stephanie. Just Stephanie. Ms. Plum sounds like a school marm. It's too early to cope with that. You want coffee or anything? A soda?"

Yipes, that damned Southern hospitality genetic kicks in at the damnedest times. Hello, Big Scary Thugly-Type Dude, come and half some biscuits and gravy... Yeah, I know you were thinking grits but good goddess, have you ever _had_ those things? Ugh. Gross.

Tank smiled, and I felt the urge to shield my eyes from the blinding white teeth. Somehow, Tank smiling didn't make Tank look any less threatening, but I took it as a good sign anyway.

"No thanks. Have a nice day," he said and left. I watched him lumbering down the hall, marveling at how small it suddenly looked with someone that large in it. I yawned again and closed the door. Coffee did sound good but I didn't want to make it. Instead I raided the fridge for one of the cans of Coke. Breakfast of champions. And college students, when caffeinated Starbucks-esque beverages were in short supply.

So, what was today's game plan? Oh yeah, hair appointment this afternoon, date with Jack tonight. What to do until then? I thought about the possibilities while I found some crackers and a grape for Rex.

"Do you realize you're like really insanely old for a hamster?" I asked him. "Especially considering how much you get moved around. You're like the Energizer Hamster. We should turn you pink and make it a commercial."

Rex wiggled his whiskers at me. "Yeah, I don't think you'd like being pink either, Hamtaro."

Geez, I'm renaming the hamster and I'm talking to it. Maybe I am nuts. Okay, focus Alyssa. You need to work today, go check on Dotty. You need to clue her in about Jeanne Ellen sometime soon.

I frowned, staring down at the hamster's water dish as part of the book reoccurred to me. Wasn't Jeanne Ellen guarding Evelyn and Annie indirectly? Like the Queen's Guard or something... maybe I should let her handle it. I mean, Stephanie's bumbling is one thing, but mine is probably going to be completely inept. Ugh. I hate this, especially since even if I don't screw up Jeanne Ellen's surveillance, I'm still in danger. Well, screw it. Stephanie was jealous of Jeanne Ellen, and I wanted to see her for myself. Let's just bite the bullet and do it.

I got showered, primped, and dressed in record time before I flew out the door. I was on a mission to meet Cat Woman and get her discovered.

Of course, once I was inside the CRV I realized I had no clue where the hell South River was, so I consulted the map. Uh-oh, problem one. South River was a ways away, and I am notoriously bad at road trips. We're talking legendary bad. Navigating the streets of Trenton was one thing, but this... Lula. I needed Lula.

I drove to the bonds office and nearly ran inside, catching Lula and Connie both by surprise. Lula was in a purple phase today: purple spandex, purple suede jacket, deep purple boots, matching nails with glittering rhinestones. Actually it looked pretty good- I would kill to be able to pull off anything I wanted like she did.

"Lula, you look awesome," I said admiringly. She grinned.

"What you suckin' up fo'? You want me to be backup?"

"That too, but you do look awesome in purple."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Connie demanded, with mock anger. I laughed, seeing the illegal amount of cleavage popping out of her red sweater.

"No, it's just hard to see past the rhinestones. You need more rhinestones," I told her. "Maybe some body glitter?"

"See, I told you," Lula exclaimed. "This girl has been taking lessons from me, there might be some style in her yet."

I rolled my eyes. I have plenty of style, in many varieties, but Lula's was not one of my style capabilities now or ever. "Come on, I need to go see Dotty Rheinhold about Evelyn and then I'm getting my hair done and going shopping."

"And you want backup for the hair cut, right? What ya doing, going blond again?" Connie laughed.

"No, I need the backup for the shopping... and because it's kind of a drive."

"Let me get my purse and we'll go. I wanted out of here anyway, on account of today is Joyce's day."

We all grimaced at that thought. Yuck. That was another part of the books I could live without experiencing.

"Hey! Is that Stephanie out there?" yelled a whiny male voice a moment before the door to the inner sanctum swung open. Oh, god, it was Vinnie. I pursed my lips trying not to laugh. Janet you outdid yourself, you actually created a human weasel. He even stands a little like a weasel might, shoulders slightly hunched, a kind of paunchy tummy, twitchy nose.

Man, Stephanie definitely got the good end of the gene pool in this family.

"Where's Bender?" Vinnie the Weasel demanded. "Why the hell haven't you brought me Bender?"

"I'm working on it," I lied. Like hell I'm working on that, he's gonna die anyway. No sense in me getting chased by knives or shot at any more than I have to.

"You damned well better work on it or you're out of a job." Uh huh, right. I repressed the urge to roll my eyes, choosing instead to leave.

"Nice to see you too, Vinnie," I called over my shoulder. "I'll see you later."

Lula followed me and we climbed into the CR-V. When we were both settled I handed her the map, then angled out of the lot in search of South River and Dotty Rheinhold's house. It took us forty-five minutes, but we made it in one piece, both of us singing off-key along with Nelly the whole way. From Stephanie's CD collection I had surmised she preferred metal and older stuff, but no way in hell was I listening to Metallica or Bruce Springsteen. The radio was going to have to do until I located a Record Wearhouse or whatever equivalent they had in New Jersey.

When we finally made it to Dotty's, sure enough there was a van a little way down the street and a nicer sedan. I wasn't sure which one was the notorious Cat Woman, but it didn't matter. "Lula, stay with the car, okay? No use letting Jeanne Ellen steal it when I just got it back."

"Got ya, girlfriend."

I jumped out, heading for the house. I paused on the street to look back at the van. No, I didn't see Jeanne Ellen using a van, even for surveillance. However, there was definitely someone in the sedan. Good enough for me. I waved and hurried up the walk to knock on the door.

Dotty opened the door looking harassed. Her hair was mussed, there were cheese splatters on her shirt, and she was holding a squirming little boy in one arm. Oh yeah, not to self: Avoid that baby-sitting incident if it's the last thing you do.

"Hey, Dotty, right? I'm Stephanie Plum-"

Dotty relaxed and smiled faintly. "I recognize you now, I went to school with your sister." Oh, poor lady. I'm sorry, that couldn't have been pleasant.

"Um, yeah, look, Mabel asked me to look for her granddaughter Evelyn, and I know you all were friends-"

"I haven't seen Evelyn in years," she said a little too quickly.

'Uh-huh," I shook my head. "I really don't care. I'm just in this to help out Mabel. Now, I know you're in contact with her, and you're her best friend so you're helping her," I held up a hand to stop her from interrupting. "But there's something you have to know about that sedan sitting down the street."

Dotty frowned and looked confused. I took the opportunity to slip inside and closed the door behind me. "Excuse me!" she protested.

"Hush, I wasn't going to announce it to the neighborhood that you're under surveillance." Dotty's face paled. "The lady in that sedan's name is Jeanne Ellen Burroughs and she was hired by Steve Soder to find Annie and Evelyn. She thinks you're in contact as well. So be careful, okay? Really, really careful. Jeanne Ellen is the best." I paused and pulled out one of Stephanie's business cards from my pocket. "Call me if you need to... get around her, right? I'll help with a diversion, but you need to get me in touch with Evelyn. I want to be able to tell Mabel she's okay."

Dotty was silent through my whole spiel and she even took the card. "All right. I'm not sure where Evelyn is, but I'll keep this in mind."

"Great. And your kids are cute, by the way," I said smiling as I grabbed for the door and made my escape. Small children make me nervous. They're like little ticking time bombs just waiting to go off in a deafening roar of shrieking. Thank god I was an only child; I wouldn't have survived siblings. Then again, looking at my parents, I don't think they would have either. My parents aren't multiple kids type people. The Cowboy and Hippie. It's a wonder I survived...

I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked back to the car, feeling more relaxed. Okay, that worked. Now to go get my hair fixed. I climbed back into the CR-V and turned to Lula.

"What do you think of blond highlights? Or should I just get it relaxed?"

Lula looked at me critically, assessing the possibilities. "You mean you didn't already put highlights in it? You sure got some. Been out in the sun a lot lately?"

I frowned and tilted the rearview mirror to examine myself. So it wasn't my imagination: my hair was a little lighter. Odd...

"You been out in the sun," Lula announced. "You're even darker! Or you been going to one of them tanning booths?"

What? I looked down at my arm and didn't see anything new, but leave it to your friends to notice minute details. "Um, yeah, I got a tanning package."

"Looking good. Not so pasty pale no more. A little color on you and no wonder Bat Man's still after you."

I laughed at that. Ranger was going to be after Steph no matter what. It was the way of Janet.


	11. Chapter 12

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich is not writing this, this is a not-for-profit fan fiction, and no one was harmed in the making of it. But the Merry Men are exhausted.

Note: It's kind of short, but hopefully amusing. Thanks as always to everyone for reading, commenting, and reviewing. This is too much fun to write, so I'm glad others are enjoying reading it!

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The mall was busy but not jam packed, so I got a decent enough spot by Macy's and we headed in. There was still an hour to kill before my appointment with Mr Alexander, so I figured it was the perfect time to find something to wear to Rossini's. Except for the niggling problem that I had never been to Rossini's in person...

"I need a new outfit," I told Lula as we ambled through the women's section. Lula's ears immediately perked up.

"Got a hot date wit' Batman?"

"No," I said, my face breaking into a grin. "But close. I'm going out with one of his guys-"

"Holy shit," Lula stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide. "You hooked up with one of those hunks? But why not Batman?"

"Ranger didn't ask," I sniffed. She nodded at that.

"So who's the guy?"

"His name's Jack... Um, actually he's the one I danced with the other night at the club."

"Oh my God, girl. That man was fine," she squeaked, grabbing my hand and hauling me after her. "Where you going? Oh, never mind, it don't matter. I know just what you need to wear..."

"We're going to Rossini's!" I yelped, narrowly avoiding losing my balance. I had a feeling I'd have been dragged along the carpet.

"Good, then it'll be perfect- Wait," she stopped again, and I nearly ran into her. Yeesh, I felt like a pull toy... Lula didn't seem to notice my discomfort as she turned to look at me critically. "This is a little funny, ain't it? I mean, you've been having enough problems with two men, what you doin' adding a third?"

I smirked. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm moving on. I'm sick of getting mixed signals from those two. Either they shape up or no matter how fine they are they're getting benched."

Well, okay, this wasn't as clear cut as all that. I mean, they're both too damned hot to handle. Benching them was going to be a lot harder than that but I am on a mission here. Too bad I wasn't sure what the mission was...

OH yeah, I'm on a mission to make Joe and Ranger treat Stephanie like more than a snack food. I'm on a mission to survive this place. I'm on a mission to get home. I'm on a mission to find the perfect outfit.

Lula was grinning ear to ear, looking like a Cheshire Cat. "It's about damned time. You put up with too much shit from both of them."

"And Jack can dance," I laughed.

"Come on, this is it," Lula said, spinning me around to face a mannequin. Holy crap, she was right. I had been expecting some weird spandex animal print with day-glo sequins, but this...

It was white, which wasn't a normal color choice for me or for Stephanie as far as I knew, but it was a dream. Wide neck, sleeveless, gathered along one side, floaty hem... I grabbed one of the rack and dashed into the fitting room.

By whatever stroke of divine intervention I had even snagged the right size, because the dress fit. And it delivered on everything the mannequin had promised. I eyed my reflection critically, but couldn't really find a flaw. I was going to look like a goddess tonight. I smiled, feeling empowered and invincible. The boys didn't stand a chance.

I stepped outside and did a quick twirl for Lula who nodded her approval. "He'll be begging you for a second date before you're even in the car," she noted.

Looks like Steph is buying herself a new dress.

I paid for the dress and we headed up to Mr. Alexander's. I was increasingly nervous with each step. I knew exactly what I wanted, I knew it would look superb, but fooling someone's stylist is impossible. He was going to know, wasn't he? He was going to call the mental ward the second I walked through that door...

Actually he hugged me the second I walked through the door. Then he proceeded to launch into a tirade about how I should deep condition more often. He paused exactly long enough to ask me what I wanted done.

"I want it relaxed. Not super straight, but waves. I want-"

"You want that beachy look. Yes, I think it will be wonderful," he was pushing me toward a chair. "I love the highlights, who did them?"

"Uh-"

"Well, they are gorgeous. They'll look better when your hair isn't such a puff ball though..."

Hey, I kind of liked the puff ball look... ok, not really. Damn, this is why she barely goes in here...

I gave up attempting to speak and let him take over, Lula stepped in to say she was going to hit Victoria Secret and she'd be back in an hour to check up on me. After she left I felt like my final lifeline was gone. I was drowning in a sea of gossip.

"So, what happened with you and Joe Morelli?" Mr. Alexander asked as he spun the chair around to being washing my hair.

"I... We-... It just wasn't working."

"Well, don't worry. I'm sure you'll find someone..." And he moved on to other topics. I breathed a sigh of relief.

It took two hours of non-stop gossip before he finally set me under the dryer. I'd get my final styling and I'd be free. The relief was dizzying.

Through whatever miracle of intuition Lula showed up again as Mr. Alexander was putting the finishing touches on my new hair. He hadn't let me see what it looked like, which was starting to annoy me.

Stephanie had a LOT of hair, and what he/we/I had just done was drastic, damn it. I wanted to know if I'd made a mistake... I was building a sympathy for those poor girls who went on The Swan. You remember. They give you a total body make-over but you don't get to see a mirror until the big reveal. Then there's a beauty pageant at the end to make sure you don't get too full of yourself because even with a total body lift, a personal trainer, a stylist, dental work, designer clothes someone is still more gorgeous than you...

Sorry, I'm rambling. But that's what it was feeling like, okay. I was dying inside.

Lula's response didn't help matters because she just grinned and nodded approvingly, keeping back to let Alexander the coif nazi finish.

He fussed with one particular section forever until he finally put the freaking curling iron down and stepped away to admire it all.

"Voila!" he announced loudly enough for the whole damned place to turn and look as he spun the chair around to let me face the mirror.

Holy shit.

My mouth dropped open and my brain shorted out.

When the synapses finally figured out how to fire again, I still remained in shock. My brown hair fell around me in soft sun-streaked waves, showing off the faint tan and brightening my blue eyes to electric proportions. Ranger wasn't going to be the only one making the opposite sex walk into walls.

But what got me wasn't the knock-em-dead good looks, but the familiarity of them. With more blond, the skin tone, the tamed curls, came a revelation: Stephanie looked like me. A little older, a few more curves, but if I had an older sister, she'd have looked like Stephanie.

"Damn, Mr. Alexander, you out-did yourself," Lula was saying. I nodded, half-forcing a smile onto my face.

"I- I love it. It's great! Perfect! More than perfect!" I said, shelving the uncomfortable revelation for later. Much later. Post-date later. Maybe even post-life later...

I dropped Lula off at the office and stayed long enough to let Connie see my new style and approve the dress I got for the date before I headed back to the apartment. Too bad there was one part of the book I forgot about.

It jumped out at me halfway back. Literally. This huge, hairy, eight-legged freak monstrosity leapt out of the back and landed on the front passenger seat. I swear to God it was staring at me through it's bazillion eyes.

I screamed. I screamed like Drew Barrymore getting sliced at the start of Scream. I screamed like I was showering at Norman Bates' house.

I also totally forgot about the road. Oops. I swerved back, narrowly missing a telephone pole, only to catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eyes a split second before the Thing landed on my leg. That was it. Games over. I screamed again, kicking, swiping at it with my hand while slamming on the break with my left foot.

Dad said I should never use my left foot. Screw dad. Dad never had a gigantic jumping spider in the car.

There was a crunch of fiberglass and metal as the CR-V bumped into something. I didn't care, I think I was leaping out of it before it even totally stopped. I might have blacked out. I don't know. My brain sort of checked out for a little while.

One moment I was screaming inside the car, then it went fuzzy and by the time I tuned back in I was sitting on the curb, crying while a guy in uniform that I thought might have been Eddie Gazarra was next to me offering chocolate and friendly hug.

When J.K. Rowling made chocolate the cure for dementors she knew what she was doing. By the second bite the spiders didn't seem so awful and I had almost given up my half-formed plan of kidnapping Janet and dumping her in the Australian outback.

"Better?" The guy-who-might-have-been-Eddie asked with a half smile.

I nodded, not feeling up to risking words.

"Like the hair," he said, apparently shooting for distraction.

"Just left the salon," I said, agreeing with the tactic.

"Come on, I'll take you home. Unless you'd rather wait for Joe?"

"Is the car still drivable?"

"Uh, Steph..." Might-be-Eddie shook his head and glanced back at the CR-V. I didn't follow the look. I didn't want to run the risk of seeing any more spiders. Animal Control was there, but I wasn't chancing it. "There's a telephone pole on it."

Ah, question answered. Fuck. That's the second car I have sent to car heaven via a telephone pole. Which brought me up to a total of one ditch, two telephone poles and a mailbox. Steph isn't the only one with car issues, although in my defense the mailbox was in order to avoid a tractor, and the ditch was with Daddy's truck trying to avoid a bull...

Possible-Eddie handed me my Macy's bag and my purse as he helped me into his squad car. Crap, should I call Jack? I wasn't so sure fancy dinner dates would go well after getting jumped by gigantic mutant spiders... What the hell is the etiquette with something like this?

"Deep thoughts?" My companion of mysterious name asked. I sighed.

"Yeah. Trying to figure out whether or not to call my date and cancel. I'm freaked, but it would be rude, but then again I feel like I need a Xanax... and on the other hand he is a psychiatrist, so maybe it could be like a free session..."

"Date?" The guy's brown eyes widened and he looked at me in shock. "You aren't talking about Joe are you?"

Crap, I forgot about that whole 'cops are the biggest gossips' routine. Oh well, they'd have known in a couple hours anyway. "Nope, not Joe,"

"I didn't know you two broke up."

"Wow, seriously?" It was my turn to stare. I figured they would have known within thirty seconds. "It was like days and days ago."

"And you already have a new date?"

We were pulling up to the apartment building, but I was intrigued so I concentrated on Possibly-Eddie. "What, you think I can't get a date?" I asked, keeping my face serious. His eyes widened a little.

"Hell no. I know you better than to say something like that." Okay, he was probably Eddie after all. "I'm just surprised," he said as he slid the car into park in front of the building and turning to look at me. "I figured you'd end up with him."

Oh. Huh, that was news. See, why the hell couldn't Janet have written this conversation? If I knew one thing it was that guy friends' ideas on these things usually were more reliable than girl friends'. I blew out a deep sigh and looked down at the Macy's bag. Janet, I have four syllables for you. Three words. Means a poor nation state, very far removed from the economic well-being of the USA.

Now, I am sure Stephanie would have had some sort of glib retort or would have beat enough circles around the old proverbial bush to do any White House Press Correspondent proud. I didn't have the energy.

"Look, no ring, no commitment. And seeing as how I didn't want a ring, that didn't exactly mean anything good either." Yeah, plus I'm possibly crazy and this is just one long damned hallucination.

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. Don't have too much fun tonight, though," he added with a lecherous grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

I rolled my eyes. "Damn, that rules out that what exactly?" He laughed as I angled out of the car.

I waved once as he drove away and hurried inside. Spiders be damned, I had a date to worry about. I was going to kick the crap out of Benny Boo, meditate, possibly make a voodoo doll of Janet, and get dressed. This frazzled state of mind was no way to go on a first date. I was going to be a goddess tonight if it killed someone. Hopefully Abruzzi.


	12. Chapter 13

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 13**

_Disclaimer:_ Still not Janet. Still not making any cash.

_Note:_ I hope this isn't disappointing guys. Nothing big happens, but hopefully its amusing anyway!

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The first order of business was to grab Benny Boo from where he lay abandoned and glittery on the living room rug and carry him back to the bedroom. He fit into the back of the closet quite nicely. It was a good place, handy to drag him out and throw things at, but out of the way enough no one was going to stumble over him. Then I hung the dress up on the bedroom door, ceremonial place of honor for all new dresses in my world, and began the process of ransacking Stephanie's shoe supply. I had seen the perfect shoes in here earlier, I just had to find them....

While I pillaged the closet, I let half my brain work out make-up colors and hair ideas. My hair looked freaking awesome down, but I wasn't sure it would go with my dress... then again, long loose, run-your-fingers-through-it hair always worked in my experience. At least as far as the guy was concerned. Of course, if you put the hair up, some guys like looking at your shoulders or neck...

Look, I know, I'm putting way too much thought into this. I am a strategist at heart, okay? Abruzzi thinks planning battles is fun, but he's stupid. Battles are nothing. Planning a seduction, now that's a challenge. Especially when you're not just aiming at let's-fuck seduction. That's too easy. Oh no, the seduction I wanted to work on Jack was more permanent. I didn't want him proposing or spouting sonnets, but I wanted him... into me. Ew, get your head out of the gutter. I just said not sex. Not yet, anyway.

I wanted Jack for a prospective boyfriend. Which takes some effort. There are guys you date, guys you marry, and guys you have an actual relationship with. Okay, so guys you marry fall into that category, but it's sort of an advanced sub category of relationships... damn it, I'm rambling. I must be nervous. What the hell? Why am I--- oh.

I sat back on my heels, the strappy silver shoes dangling absently from one hand. I was nervous about maintaining my Stephanie persona. I was nervous I wouldn't get a chance to impress Jack before the Not-so-Caped Crusader and the Italian Wonder Cop jumped in. And they would, at least one of them if not both. They're alpha males. They do this. It's the over protective genetic. At least they probably wouldn't club me over the head and drag me back to the cave. Umm... hopefully.

I shoved the whole thing out of my mind and began assembling my outfit. I dug through Steph's lingerie drawer first. Now this just freaked me out on that whole identity crisis level again. Mainly because these were someone else's purchases, someone else thought the boy-cut briefs with the Wonder Woman logo were cute. I managed to pretend it was a Victoria Secret sale until I had the white lace French-Cut drawers on and then I made myself forget about it. No bra would go under the dress except maybe a strapless, and I wasn't going to deal with one. I've had the worst luck with those stupid things. They fall down, they move, they wrinkle, they... come off. Yeah. See, God made me a B-cup for a reason. It means I could... hell. I could pass the braless test, but what about Stephanie?

I scrunched my nose and closed my eyes. Only one way to find out, and it was my damned body for now anyway. Time to get comfy with it.

I threw a T-shirt on and scrounged through the house until I found a number two pencil. It took a moment of puffing up my courage before I could lift a boob and put the pencil under it.

The pencil fell out.

I did a happy dance around the fallen pencil. Victory was mine! No strapless bras! I fairly skipped back to the bedroom in relief.

The last crisis overcome, I slipped the dress on, strapped on the heels and searched until I found some jewelry to match it. There were silver accents on the shoulders of the dress so, I was torn about whether or not to add a choker. Eventually I just put on some very long dangly delicate silver earrings and went without the cute choker. However this meant the hair had to be away from my face...

I frowned into the mirror and weighed my options. Eventually I decided on pulling it back into a low ponytail at the nape of my neck a la Ranger. It probably wouldn't have worked if I hadn't just escaped the salon with the usual model-like shine. The right shimmer and coverage in the make-up, some silvery shimmering highlights to the eyes, lots of lip gloss, and hello Hotness.

I smiled at my reflection. No way did I look thirty. Maybe twenty-something, but I was willing to bet if you put me in the right lighting I'd be getting carded. Yay for good genetics!

I added some silver bangles and went out to show my new look off to Rex. He actually stopped running long enough to blink twice. I thought that was a good sign, and gave him an extra grape for a reward. I was still giggling over watching his little butt wiggle at the entrance of the soup can when there was a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach was invaded by an army of large angry butterflies. I checked the peephole before I opened, more to give myself time than out of habit.

The butterflies went away. It was Jack... and Jack was... the little Chelsea in my head screamed: "Bloody gorgeous! Why the hell aren't you dragging him through the door and shagging his brains out?"

Because that was not part of the strategy, I reminded myself as I opened the door, smiling.

Jack's eyes flared, and his jaw dropped a fraction of an inch. For a Rangeman that was damn near a drooling moment. I smiled wider and stepped back to let him in.

"Sorry, I'm not totally ready yet."

"You're not?" he raised his eyebrows, his gaze sweeping over me again. "You're breathtaking," he said as his eyes met mine again, and he said it with a straight face. Wow. This guy was hella good for my ego. Maybe I should tape him so Stephanie can have it when she gets back.

"You're pretty gorgeous yourself," I said nervously. "Have a seat on the couch. Do you want anything to drink? Soda, or-"

"I'm fine, Stephanie," he smiled. Wow he had pretty eyes... all green and sparkly and... eek. I sound like a teeny bopper! Too many Hilary Duff songs...

"I'll be just a second," I told him, turning tail to escape back into the bedroom before something embarrassing escaped me.

I closed the door, grabbed the pretty little white clutch purse and began dumping various items from the large ugly black thing into it. Cell phone, ID, credit cards, mace. You know, the important things. I would have taken cuffs or a gun but there wasn't room, and anyway, Jack worked at Rangeman. I was pretty sure he had a gun or two with him... plus there had been a vague something about his back. It looked kind of like there might have been a gun under the expensively cut suit jacket.

I wandered back out, purse in hand. "Ready now!" I announced, watching closely as he stood up. Okay, weird, because I didn't see anything... "Do you have a gun on you?" I asked.

He nodded. "Shoulder holster."

"Do you always carry a gun on a date?" I bit my lip, considering the possible implications. Stephanie's reputation apparently proceeded me. Jack's lips quirked in an almost-smile.

"Not all the time. But when the girl has a guy like Eddie Abruzzi leaving her snakes and spiders, I figured it might be a good idea."

I laughed at that- he did have a point after all. "Good enough. Because I don't have anywhere to carry one in this outfit, or in my purse."

The smile became a real one and he stepped forward, taking my hand in his and bending over it in a courtly bow incongruous with his California surfer looks. "Fear not, fair maiden, I will protect you."

The mini-Chelsea in my head swooned. Looking into his clear green eyes, almost feeling the warmth of his voice wrapping around me, I very nearly followed her. Oh hell, Janet. What kind of world have you put me in? Must every single one of these guys know the exactly right moves?

"Why, thank you, Sir Jack. I'll hold you to that," I managed to say, around the pounding in my ears.

His grin became almost wolfish. Dude, again, must all of these guys have that look? No wonder Stephanie has issues, they all spend half the time looking at her like she's lunch. Not that this is an entirely bad thing, mind you... Okay, never mind, I am not complaining. It beats the boys at home looking at me with the completely obvious bedroom eyes. The men here just look at you like 'I am going to strip you and make you scream my name repeatedly' while I'm used to 'I wonder what color your nipples are.' It just takes some adjusting to.

"After you, Stephanie," he said, opening the door and ushering me through and holding out his hand for the keys. I let him lock up, and shivered slightly as a new thought began creeping into my head.

The guys here, Jack, Ranger, Joe, even Mac, they weren't exactly what I was used to dealing with. But how much of that was just the setting, the age gap? Were they really different, or were they just better with the motions?

It was going to be fun figuring out, I was sure.

Jack took my arm and we headed for the elevator.

"How did you find out about the spiders?" I asked him, curious. Okay, so the whole 'Burg probably knew, but I didn't think Rangeman was included in the collective.

Jack gave me a disbelieving look. "The cops have been talking about it all day," he said after a tenth of a beat too long. So, while plausible, that wasn't it.

"Really? I wondered if my running into that telephone pole didn't knock out the GPS chip," I said blandly. Jack blinked at me, his eyes lighting with amusement.

"What makes you think we have a GPS on you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not you so much. More Ranger. Because he either has some kind of tracking device on it somewhere or he just magically knows where I am nintey-nine point nine percent of the time."

Jack shrugged. I recognized this shrug. It was one my dad used when I was right but he wasn't going to admit it. I let it go.

"Are we doing anything after Rossini's?"

"You don't do subtle subject changes, do you?" Jack asked, smiling. Wow. He apparently found me entertaining as all hell, cause he was doing that a lot. It made him hotter though, so again not going to complain.

"Sorry," I shrugged. "I could try again?"

"I'm actually not sure. I figured we could play it by ear. Maybe a movie, maybe a walk in the park..." I didn't get to hear his last suggestion because my phantom-Chelsea let out a fan-girl scream and a stream of British slang.

I'm not sure about other people, but after about a million horrible dates I have this habit of imagining what my best friends would do, say, or advise at critical junctures. This is sometimes unfortunate, but most of the time it keeps me from doing anything too stupid. And it is hard to keep a mood going when you have Renee telling you she's going to kick your ass or Chelsea hissing discouraging British slang at you.

"A walk in the park sounds like fun," I said honestly, tuning out the phantom friends in my head. I had enough identity crises at the moment. "I haven't done that in a long time."

"Me either... does Trenton even have parks?" he asked, opening the door of the car we'd arrived at. My eyes widened as I realized it was a silver Aston Martin. A DB9 convertible, to be precise. Bloody hell, what did these guys do? How much did a job at RangeMan freaking pay? Government contracts are not this lucrative. On the other hand, no wonder Ranger didn't mind Stephanie destroying his Porsches, when even employees could afford Aston freaking Martins.

I pulled my jaw back together. "Nice car."

"Thanks, it's new." Yeah, as in it just came out. I nodded, sliding in without another word. I was dead and in heaven. A heaven filled with beautiful men with sexy cars... yeah, I could almost buy that if it weren't for the spiders.

Jack got behind the wheel and thoughtfully put the top up. The air was cooling off and my hair would have been a nightmare anyway. Then we were off; Jack slipping into that weird Driving Zen State that seems popular with Ranger and company. 'Constant vigilance!' as Mad-Eye Moody would have barked, 'Constant vigilance!'

Maybe that's where they learned their impressive powers, I thought trying not to laugh. Ranger as Harry Potter... I began mentally recasting the books to amuse myself, which actually was amazingly entertaining, keeping my head busy and away from sensitive matters all the way to the restaurant parking lot.

Jack was out and opening my door before I even fully realized we were there. He grinned as he helped me out and I was struck with the odd thought that he would have made a great Marauder. Maybe Lupin?

He took my arm and pulled me in close as we walked through the doors. The maitre-d, a very Italian sort of guy in a perfectly pressed suit and tie, smiled broadly.

"Ah, Mr. Ryan! Your table is waiting!" he said, with a snap of his fingers. A younger man arrived, obviously flustered and looking like he might keel over from a nervous breakdown at any moment. "Take Mr. Ryan and his beautiful guest to their table," the maitre-D ordered sternly. Damn, he could have given a drill sergeant a run for his money...

"He was a drill sergeant, Steph," Jack whispered. How the hell do they do that? Janet, not fair giving the guys ESP. I want a superpower.


	13. Chapter 14

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 14**

The restaurant was gorgeous. It was decorated to echo an Italian villa, or ruins of one, maybe. The floors looked like they were marble and the walls were a rich cream, plaster, with the requisite cracks and occasional bricks revealed, or covered in frescoes. The room was sectioned with rows of ornate pillars, and above the central dining area was a domed skylight. I'm a sucker for all things Italy, so I was pretty much in love.

The flustered young waiter seated us at a table in a corner just off the main area, sheltered enough to be out of the way of bustling waiters, while still being visible and accessible. It was the corner feature that got me. They had to have a retainer going to all the restaurants around town, a Rangeman employee signal, something...

The waiter asked for our drinks in a thick accent, probably Italian but it could have been eastern Europe, I have a hard time telling the differences all the time.

"I'll have a water for now, thank you" I said with a smile. The poor boy blushed. Aww, it was cute.

Jack said some kind of wine that I didn't catch and I looked at him, half-surprised. I kept thinking these guys were above silly mortal things like drinking. Although oddly not sex. I kind of figured they were complete guys about that one.

"Do you always flirt with the waiters" Jack asked, grinning. I faked a pout.

"I smiled at him! Can't a girl be polite"

"He's probably going to be walking on cloud nine for days."

"Right. Only if I were Britney Spears."

Jack grimaced. "Honey, if you looked like Britney Spears I wouldn't go out in public with you."

I laughed. It was always fun to find a guy who didn't like Brit. Probably very catty and shallow of me, but I don't care. Just like it's nice to hear a guy dis Paris Hilton or some other famous twig. It gives you hope that maybe, just maybe you don't have to be perfect after all.

"Yes you would. I'd be insanely rich." He shook his head, chuckling. Oh, that's right, he had an Aston Martin. It probably wasn't a big thing for him, money.

"The issue was you with the waiters."

I delayed my response a moment by looking over the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the food choices. Hm, honesty or insist on my innocence?

"I flirt with everyone, according to some of my friends" I admitted. It's true, I've never been able quite to figure it out. I know when I'm deliberately flirting of course, but apparently I do it when I don't mean to. It's gotten a few girls pissed at me. Then again, the guys in those cases were sleazy idiots who followed anything with breasts, so I'm not convinced any flirting had to be done on my part.

Further discussion was thankfully interrupted by the waiter, who must have been aiming for the fastest service award. He gave me a gigantic smile as he set my water down. He was considerably cooler toward Jack. I almost laughed.

We placed our orders and the waiter, Paolo, took our menus and disappeared. My mouth was watering already for the Chicken Parmesan. Gah. If I ever move to Italy I'm going to be very happy, very tan, and very pudgy.

"So, how long have you been Alyssa for"

I had just taken a sip of water and I nearly choked on it. Oh holy hand grenades, Batman!

"Excuse me" I felt the panic rising in me, choking my lungs...

"Alyssa. When I met you at the club" Jack said, leaning forward, his eyes piercing. "You never once slipped up. You have to have gone out using that name before."

"Oh, not really" I laughed. _Only twenty-one years or so_. "Its- it's an old nickname. From college." _From birth_. "I don't even remember how I got it." _Except it involved my mother and a baby name book_...

"College, huh" Jack sounded interested. "Where'd you go"

FUCK. Where the hell did she go? Oh hell. Why didn't I say high school"Good ol' local community college. I was a horrible student though. I hated business classes, I'm not sure how I managed to keep it as a major, even."

Which is true. I was a business major once. I loathed it. Marketing isn't much better but at least you get to do stupid ad campaign stuff.

"Where did you go" I asked him, more to get the focus off of me.

"Rutgers, Newark. Graduated with a degree in psychology" _Hey, didn't Ranger go there? _"Then I joined up with the army for a while."

"Why the army" I asked. I wasn't about to ask what he did in there... okay, yeah I would. Eventually. Maybe. When I felt like risking life and limb.

Jack shrugged. Well, actually his shoulders moved incrementally in the suggestion of a shrug. There must be a RangeMan training course"Moving and how not to do it" or "Conserving Kinetic Energy 101." A Prerequisite for Intro to Mercenary Life. Huh, it must be time to start schedules for next semester. My inner computer has the urge to name classes.

"I didn't know what I wanted to do, wasn't ready for a desk job. I wanted to travel."

"Travel the world, meet interesting people, and kill them" I remembered the old quip one of my friends had been so fond of. Jack blinked at me, and it took a moment to realize I'd said it out loud. Whoops. I felt myself begin to blush.

"Sorry, it's something a friend of mine used to say" I offered by way of explanation.

Jack inclined his head a little, not looking upset in the least. In fact he looked kind of... intrigued. Like some sort of new idea had occurred to him. Uh-oh. He kind of looked like Renee when she got one of her schemes.

"Does it bother you, that I might have killed people"

Oh, boy. Now this is a normal first date conversation... if you're in the CIA.

"Not really. Some people are only alive because it's illegal to kill them" I quoted a bumper sticker I had seen once. A quote got me in this mess- maybe a quote could get me out.

"Besides" I added trying to remember what the hell kind of order the Stephanie series went in"I've killed, too. It would be hypocritical." Please, please let me be right about that, Janet...

"During the Ramirez case."

Squee! Inner victory dance! I kept my features blank, allowing myself only the small upward movement of my lips in the hint of a smile. "Yeah, that" I said, taking a sip of my water.

The rest of dinner passed by in a blur as I found it increasingly difficult to remember the script I was working from and Jack didn't seem interested in talking about himself. Just my luck, there's one guy in the universe that doesn't want to tell you his life's story and I end up going out with him when I can't share mine. Well, I could, but he'd lock me up and start a thorazine drip.

I hate you Janet. That was the thought revolving in my head all night long even as I dug into the superb cheesecake. I hate you, Janet. I hate you for making up this world of wonderful guys and for it all being some sort of hallucination.

Maybe the thorazine drip wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Excuse me, Madame" The waiter was back, looking more stressed than ever. "There's a phone call for you. You can use the courtesy phone"

I frowned, suddenly uncomfortable. A phone call? From who? Or what"Thank you. Where is it" I asked, looking around.

"In the front, miss. I'll show you" He said, stringing his words together into one long string. Poor boy, I made him nervous... I glanced at Jack. He looked a little displeased. Huh, maybe Jack made him nervous. Smart boy after all. I nodded to the waiter and followed him up the front, past the maitre-d, who eyed us suspiciously. I barely repressed the urge to check my shoes for polish.

The young waiter led me to a small cubby I hadn't noticed in the waiting area and handed me a nondescript white phone. Somehow I had expected something more... exotic here. Ah well, nowhere is perfect. He disappeared as I spoke a cautious "Hello"

"Did you like the spiders" wheezed a metallic, synthesized voice. Oh, joy, someone's sibling had given them one of those thingys 'from Home Alone.

"Good evening, Mr Abruzzi or associate thereof. No, I didn't enjoy the spiders. I'm more of a duckie and bunnies type of girl. Even Teletubbies."

There was a low chuckle from Mr. Sharper Image on the other end before the line went dead. I sighed and took a moment to stare at the phone before I hung it up. Hey, Janet, have I mentioned lately how very deeply I loathe you? Stupid corny things like stalkers who enjoy prank phone calls. I bet Abruzzi even tortured flies as a kid, didn't he?

At least this life wasn't boring. And there weren't any history tests. No more algebra either. I smiled, feeling a little better. Probably that says something about my thirst for academic excellence when I prefer the thought of sociopath crime lords to a little homework. Probably I need therapy. Probably I need a shot of Jagermeister.

I mentally ran down the list of alcohol I currently desired as I headed back to the table. If I was myself I would have grabbed Jack, and started dialing my cell for reinforcements. It would have been a Varsity Blues night. It would have been a Dude, Where's My Car night. I was going to be...

"Who was it" Jack asked, pushing in my chair for me. Ah, chivalry. Thank goddess it's not totally dead.

"Just my sister" I said evenly.

"Liar."

Grrr. "I am not lying."

"Yes you are" he said as he sat back in his own seat. His eyes were assessing me, weighing the possibilities. "Now, who was it"

I rolled my own eyes. Fine, be this way. "Probably it was one of Abruzzi's goons. Wanted to know if I liked the spiders."

Jack's face went Ranger-blank. Damn. "They're following you."

"They need a life. Look, someone of his probably saw us and sent word in..." but Jack had his cell phone out and had hit a button. "Or we could just send up the Bat Signal" I muttered down at my pasta. Jack shot me a look. I ignored him, zoning out to look around the crowd. His conversation was short as usual, only the basics of language necessary. No Telephone Manners badge for these Scouts.

"Abruzzi isn't a nice guy, Stephanie" Jack said, setting the phone down. "This could get ugly."

_Correction, this would get ugly_, I thought, feeling suddenly very tired. "I know" I interrupted before he could get started. "I know he's schizo, I know it's dangerous. I'm training with Mac, and I'm being careful" I smiled to reassure him. Plus, I know what he's going to do, more or less, I added to myself. All I was going to have to do was get the timing right, avoid Pino's, and... uh-oh.

If I didn't get abducted, how would Abruzzi end up dead?

Fuck me.

Just wait, Janet Evanovich. I'll get you, and your little hamster too.

"Come on, beautiful" Jack said, suddenly appearing at my side. "We're going dancing." I sighed in relief and actually laughed. Dancing. Dancing was good. No thinking about anything but mood, music, and a very hot guy with silky blond hair...

"Let's go" I said, letting him help me to my feet and sweep me out the door.


	14. Chapter 15

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 15**

_Disclaimer:_ Janet's characters are Janet's characters. And she can keep them, I'm just borrowing them for some amusement.

**000000000000000000000000000000000**

I flopped facedown on the bed, past giving a second thought to my dress. It was tough, it would survive a little wrinkling. Hell, after the night I'd just had, it was as wrinkled and disheveled as it could get. With an immense effort, I summoned the will to tilt my head just enough to let me see the bedside table. 5 am. Wow, that was a record even for me.

It was going to be a bloody long day. But it was worth it. I had just had a night of dining, dancing, laughing, and all-out partying to rival anything we'd ever pulled during Rush Week and maybe even Homecoming.

I sighed happily. I hadn't drunk that much so I was sober now, just unbelievably tired. This is why the gods invented No-Doz. I'd be fine. Maybe I'd take it with coffee. Mmm, coffee sounded good. Well, not plain coffee. No, I was lusting after a Caramel Macchiatto with whipped cream and heavy on the caramel. I had some No-Doz in my purse, having bought it at some 7-Eleven at some point during the night, so all I needed was the coffee. Which meant getting dressed. Which meant a shower. Which meant moving. I heaved a sigh and pushed myself to my feet.

I'd pulled an all-nighter before, and I would again. So why was I so freaking... Oh, this must be what people mean when they feel all old after 30. Wow, being in a 30 year old's body sucks...

An hour later, standing in line at the Starbucks rip-off coffee shop, I was feeling somewhat better disposed toward my antique body, having been fully groomed and being assaulted by the warm, welcoming scent of early morning coffee and eagerly anticipating my own large dose of caffeine.

I finally scored my hit and scurried over to the window bar to savor my carmel macchiatto goodness. I almost shivered in delight as I took the first sip, popped the No-Doz, and downed another gulp. The iced sugary liquid shot through my veins, and hit my brain with a pleasant jolt. I had my fix.

"Hey, honey, is that a caramel mochaccino" asked a lady with a voice that said she'd been smoking two packs a day since World War Two ended. "I used to drink them but they gave me the shakes. Too much sugar"

I turned to look, against my better judgement. The lady was sitting next to me, a little old granny with flame red hair, fresh blood red lipstick, eye make-up a la Tammy Faye, more rings than one of my mom's New Age guru friends, platform Sketchers and a white polyester warm-up suit. I blinked and wondered why she seemed so familiar.

"You keep drinking them and you'll end up with diabetes. My brother had diabetes" she continued on earnestly. "They had to cut his foot off. It was real ugly, first his toes turned black and then his skin started falling off. It looked like a shark had got hold of him and ripped all the meat off."

I bit my lip as it hit me. FTA file. She was one of Stephanie's FTA's. Blech. And her choice of conversations... "It's an iced caramel macchiato actually, but close enough" I told her.

"Well, be careful with that stuff" she advised. "You don't want to end up in a nursing home like my brother. I go visit him sometimes, but I got things to do. Gotta keep active, at my age I might wake up dead tomorrow... how old do you think I am"

Old enough to know better than to die your hair that color, I wanted to say. Instead I smiled and summoned up my Scarlett manners. "Why ma'am, you can't be a day over sixty." The lady laughed.

"I'm seventy-four. What's your name, honey"

"A- I'm Stephanie."

"Laura. Laura Minello." Yeah, I knew that. Wanna go to jail now"See that fancy red car out there" she asked, gesturing to a red Corvette out front"That's my ride."

"Nice wheels, Laura" I nodded appreciatively. "I think the new body style kicks ass. How long you had it"

"Couple days."

I glanced at her, curious. "Steal it"

"Borrowed. Old people are allowed." I grinned at that. I could appreciate the logic. When you live to be eighty-five, yeah, you should get some kind of perk. I took a sip of my drink, to stall for a little time. If I remembered right, some blue and white showed up pretty soon anyway.

"Oh, by the way, I work for your bondsman- Vincent Plum. You missed your court date, and you'll need to reschedule. Over the BMW wasn't it"

"They didn't have no sense of humor at that dealership. Just pencil me in for next week."

A cop car rounded the corner a block away, and I watched it cruise toward the Corvette.

"doesn't work that way, I'm afraid. It'd be a lot easier, of course, make my job hella less dangerous, but it just doesn't" I rambled as the cop car stopped and the officer got out to look at the red Corvette. I waved to him and he rolled his eyes.

A couple hours later I was sitting outside the Vincent Plum Bail Bonds office trying to decide whether or not I really wanted to go in. I had to, on account of I had to get a check for taking Laura in, but I really didn't want to. We had run into Lula last night and I was pretty sure she was going to be hung over like none other, plus she would have told everything to Connie.

I'd be walking into the Spanish Inquisition. I gathered up my guts, wishing I had another iced caramel macchiatto, and sauntered into the office, trying not to think about firing squads.

"Hey jelly bean" Lula said, looking surprisingly chipper, and only half-dead. Must have been closer to noon than I thought.

"Vinnie's in his office" Connie warned before standing up from the computer to stalk closer. "So, what did you do last night"

I sighed and slipped down into the couch next to Lula. "Went to a few clubs. An after-hours party or two. Lula was around for most of it."

"Are you here to tell me you captured Bender" Vinnie screamed through his door.

"How" I started to ask. Connie just raised her middle finger.

"I saw that" the human weasel yelled.

"Video and sound installed."

Vinnie's door opened and his greasy little head popped out, beady eyes flashing. "Andy Bender is a drunk for crissake"

"A crafty drunk" I interrupted. "He pulled a knife on me and apparently he's immune to pepper spray. Unless you want me to shoot him and drag his lifeless body to the hospital, I'm going to need help. I wouldn't mind just shooting him though..."

Everyone's jaw dropped. Vinnie looked like a weasel being choked.

"Christ, no! Too much fucking paperwork"

"Then what's your suggestion, Wise One" I demanded, crossing my arms and glaring at him.

"You're pathetic, Stephanie. I could catch this guy with one hand behind my back" he blustered.

"Fine, then you can go along, show me how it's done."

Vinnie's mouth opened and closed several times. Finally he puffed up his chest and nodded his head. "Be here tonight. I'll take this guy down." He slammed the door shut behind him. I shook my head and handed a still-dumbstruck Connie the paperwork on Laura Minello.

"Here, I'm going to the gym, but I'll pick this up on my way home." And I high tailed it out the door.

I had barely turned out onto the street when the cell phone started going off. I flipped it open without checking the caller ID. Stupid me. Grandma Mazur didn't even wait for a 'hello'.

"You have to do something! Mabel is driving us nuts" She sounded kind of frantic. "Been over here forty times! She bakes all day and now she's giving us stuff because she dont' have any more room"

"Gee, that sounds awful. Free food, the horror" I couldn't help it. The caffeine had lost me control of my mouth.

"Stephanie Plum" Grandma Mazur snapped. "This is serious! She came over this time and started crying. Crying! You know we don't do so good with crying here." I just rolled my eyes, feeling remarkably unsympathetic.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm on my way to the gym. Just nod your head and keep some Kleenex handy. It won't kill y'all to deal with emotion for once. It's not healthy to keep it all bottled up the way y'all do in that house. Someone is going to need some serious therapy someday. Or have a psychotic episode" I added thinking about Stephanie's dad and the hints through the books about his growing love of gun magazines and Steph's mom hiding the rat poison from him.

"You've been watching Dr. Phil again, haven't you"

My jaw dropped. What the hell? Was Dr Phil the only way anyone in this freakish place got therapy? Ugh. I swallowed the urge to scream. "Sorry, what? You're cutting out. Talk you later! Love you! Bye"

I hit the End button and tossed the phone into the passenger seat. Time to go see Mac and learn how to kick some ass.


	15. Chapter 16

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 16**

_Note:_ This is a great deal of Janet's fault. It was just too twisted without even Alyssa's help.

_Disclaimer:_ We accept no liability for any therapy bills resulting from reading this chapter.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Mac looked up from his position behind the front desk when I walked in to greet me with a truly killer smile. "Ready for another round?"

I nodded. I needed to work off the pent up frustration before I had a psychotic episode. Or before the current psychotic episode spun out of control… however you wanted to look at it. "Ready when you are, Obi-Wan."

The corner of his mouth quirked and he led me back to the small room he called a training area and I privately considered a dance studio. I figured I'd mention my idea later, when I could hold my own against him for more than five seconds. Today was not that day. Probably tomorrow wouldn't be it either.

This realization hit me the same time the mat did, about half a heartbeat into the session. By the end of the hour I was really getting a fine and intimate knowledge of the mat, but I was also getting the bonus of getting a fairly good knowledge of Mac. Granted it was generally as he was flipping me around like a rag doll, but hey, a girl has to have some optimism.

"You're doing really well, Stephanie," he insisted. For an inept chick, I added mentally.

"Thanks. Even if you're being nice."

He just shook his head. "This is your second time. Don't expect miracles. Why don't we work on some simple holds for securing suspects?" He took my arm and pinned it behind me. "Now, what's the problem with this?"

Now this position was a little uncomfortable, and I knew exactly what was wrong with it. Without missing a beat I bent at the waist and spun out, bringing my other arm around to catch him in the side, startling him enough that I was able just barely to pull my wrist out of his grasp and stumble a couple steps back. Mac wasn't by any means incapacitated but I was loose and that was enough for me.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, looking a little surprised. I bit my lip and shrugged.

"The first part of a sweetheart." Mac blinked and looked blank.

"A what?"

"A sweetheart. It's a dance move." He shook his head, the beginning of a smile appearing on his handsome face.

"Improvisation. That's good, Stephanie. Now, the standard way for getting out of that is similar," he said, pulling me back into the position and guiding me through a much more dignified series of moves.

After the beating was finally over, I was feeling much less in danger of killing someone, and much more in danger of keeling over. I was sweaty, disheveled, and starving. Mac showed me the girls' locker room and I took a much-needed shower, changed into the set of clothes I'd brought and emerged a much happier girl. Still, it was with a sense of apprehension that I poked my head out the door to check for my car. I really didn't want to explain a second one getting stolen to Ranger. Then again, it was Ranger's. Of course it was still there. No one steals Rambo's car.

"Need a ride?" Mac asked from behind me. I jumped and let the door shut as I turned to face him, feeling a blush creeping up my face.

"Nope. Still there, thank god. This one's a loner."

"One of Ric's," Mac nodded. I wondered if there was some sort of glowing neon sign on it that I couldn't see.

"Yeah, how'd you-" Mac just grinned and I was forced to roll my eyes. "Never mind. Anyway, thanks for the lesson. When do you want me back?"

"Tomorrow. Same time."

"Cool," I said, smiling. "See you then!" I called back as I stepped out into the street. I had an increased kicking-ass factor, a decreased frustration quotient, and I was going to get to see Vinnie tangle with the schizoid Bender.

I guess I should have read number eight a little better. I wouldn't have made that quick stop at the apartment. I wouldn't have finally been cornered by The Clown.

I stared at the pudgy, lumpy little Pillsbury Doughboy in front of me holding the bag of Chinese food and sighed. I couldn't be mean to him because that would be like kicking a puppy. I couldn't scream and runaway because that would be… hey, why couldn't I? The idea held that glimmering promise of a freshly opened tub of strawberry sorbet. I could just run away screaming and then…. And then Joe and Ranger and probably others would send me to a psych ward and stare at me through a little glass window forever. Blech.

I stood aside and let the Clown in, silently vowing that I would send Janet a litter of 15 cocker spaniel puppies as payback. She could take them with her to that third world country I shipped her to.

"I didn't know if you liked Chinese but I-"

"I love Chinese. Thanks Albert," I cut him off and opened the fridge. "Beer or water?"

"Gee isn't it a little early to be drinking? I mean, not that it's really early early, and of course…"

I zoned out and handed him a bottle of water. I looked down at my own bottle, wishing longingly for it to be filled with Captain Morgan.

"What's this?" Vinnie asked when I showed up at Bender's with Clownboy in tow.

"Albert Kloughn, attorney at law," I quoted, relieved I at least remembered a line for once, while giving Vinnie my best Bitch Look. As in: 'I have my gun fully loaded. Bitch, please.' So what if I didn't know how to use the stupid gun. The barrel points at the other person, you squeeze the trigger. I had figured out how to put the bullets in. And I bet you don't have to be that talented to shoot a weasel. "I invited him along," I added in my dire warnings voice.

Okay, I was being a little huffy. I'd been in the company of Albert Kloughn for over an hour. I never claimed I was Ghandi. Elizabeth I maybe, or Cleopatra even… but then, everyone's been Cleopatra at some time or another.

"He looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy," Vinnie commented. I shrugged.

"I brought Chinese food," Albert volunteered, holding up a small bag of leftovers I had refused to keep. "It was one of those last minute things. I just felt like- Oohff!" Lula had snatched the bag and was pawing through it like a ravenous wolf.

"I don't want to take a lawyer on a bus," Vinnie said carefully, giving me a wary look. Guess I was looking as bitchy as I felt. Good. Let him know it's Weasel Season.

"I won't sue you! I swear!" Kloughn put in, and started off on some tangeant I just didn't want to hear. Something about a gun. He'd been very eager to help my load mine. As incompetent as I might be, I knew better than to let him touch it.

"Vests?" I asked Vinnie.

"You want a vest?" he looked scandalized. I nodded. I wasn't sure but I thought that Vinnie tended to shoot a lot in these situations. Weasels being kind of twitchy and all.

He sighed and led me over to get suited up. "You been spending too much time with Ranger," he muttered. I raised an eyebrow at him. He twitched. I had a new game. Luckily he turned away so he didn't get to see me fight a huge case of the giggles.

When everyone was armed and fitted out with Kevlar, Vinnie cleared his throat and looked imperious. I wouldn't have thought he had it in him, but just for a moment he did, until he spoke.

"Listen up, I have a plan, and I expect every one to do their parts."

"Oh boy," Lula said, "a plan." I smirked, agreeing fully.

"Stephanei and I will take the front doors," Vinnie said. "Lula and the clown take the back. We enter at the same time and subdue the bastard." I rolled my eyes. "All you have to do," he continued, "is wait for me to yell 'Bond Enforcement!' then we crash in with everyone yelling 'freeze… bond enforcement." I wondered if my eye would start tweaking soon.

"I always wanted to crash down a door and yell stuff," Lula said.

I shook my head. Overrated, although I'd never done it with a gun before… but Janessa and I had kicked in that door one time to catch her then-boyfriend in bed with Mr. Strade's wife… I was distracted from my musings by Lula taking a Glock out of her purse and shoving it into the waistband of her canary yellow spandex skirt. I blinked, momentarily amazed. I would have bet money it wouldn't have fit.

"I have flashlight in case the lights go off," Kloughn chimed in, holding up the Mag light.

I smiled, wondering if I locked Kloughn and Ranger in a room together who would live and for how long. I added it to my list of evil plots, just behind slipping Mrs. Plum and Valerie the Mooner Magic Brownies. "So, do we even know if the guy's home?" I asked more to get my mind off my own devious ideas than to actually find out.

"Looks like someone's watching tv," Albert said.

"We need to get closer and take a look," Vinnie ordered. So we all followed him, creeping through the grass to press up against the building and listen under the windows. I was glad Lula's wished-for TV crew hadn't arrived. I didn't want to think what we looked like. A valley girl in Kevlar, a paunchy weasel with too many guns, a Pillsbury Doughboy with a flashlight, and a large lady in dayglo yellow spandex with a gun stuck in her waistband.

Thank god Ranger and the Merry Men weren't around. This was below even amateur level in their world.

Meanwhile, we were definitely pressed up against a building wherein a porno was being watched… watched… oh, no. Wait a second… this wasn't in this book was it? Pleaee Janet, please don't let it be in this book…

Lula and Kloughn headed for the back while I followed Vinnie to the front door, reluctantly. I was heading before the firing squad. Except worse. Maybe I better tell Jack I'll need those therapy sessions after all…

Vinnie drew his gun and banged on the door. "Bond enforcement!" he yelled. "Open up!" He took a step back, ready to bust in the door when we heard Lula's Amazonian war cry echo from the back to the accompaniment of splintering door. We didn't have a chance to move. The front door burst open and naked men started running out.

Naked men I really didn't want to see naked. I flashed back to the Riviera my Junior year, when the very bronze, very 200 lb man in a speedo had jogged by. Only this time there was no speedo. And I wasn't on a beach in the Riviera, I was in the projects in Jersey. I might have blacked out.

Inside still more men, in various stages of nudity or even a few fully dressed were waving guns, some while they tried to pull up their pants. I don't think anyone noticed Vinnie's gun added into all of it.

It would have been a bit harder to miss Lula however. She stood in the midst of the chaos, waving her own Glock. "This is a bond enforcement operation! Stop running!"

Finally Vinnie fired off a round and took out a chunk of ceiling. After which the only people left were the four of us .No Bender. Not that I could really tell. I was having trouble focusing.

There was this episode of Married… With Children where Al saw his mom-in-law naked and went blind. Hysterical blindness he called it. I now knew what it meant. And I thought he'd made it up. Sorry Al, I'll never doubt you again.

"Vinnie? Is that you?" A woman called from somewhere. Oh gods, Vinnie and the Porn Star… No. Nonono. I'm not living through this. I'm not.

A large-breasted naked woman bounded out of the bedroom. Her pubic hair was in a thunderbolt shape. Oh sweet Krispy Kremes… you know, if you dyed it purple…

"Are you looking for Andy?" she asked as a second woman followed her out. I let Vinnie handle the conversation, and didn't even have the energy left to comment when Albert gave them his business cards.

I kept seeing unhealthily naked men running by and was feeling the urge to reach out to my inner bulimic. Someone get the license plate number of that fat man. I have just been violated.


	16. Chapter 17

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 17**

**Note**: … Yo ho ho and a bottle of wine.

**Disclaimer**: Take what you can, give nothing back. Unless Janet specifically asks for him. … okay okay, so we're not taking Ranger or the Plum Universe. They are Janet's because the lawyers say so. Remind us to include a T-Rex eating one of them in here somewhere. The idea of which belongs to someone else too. Damn.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Boy, that was something," Albert was saying an hour later as we pulled into my parking lot. Stephanie's parking lot. Our parking lot… hell, the parking lot attached to the building in which the body I was residing in lived. Sometimes the English language just has no words, you know?

"I've never seen a movie star up close. And especially naked ones. I didn't look too much did I? I mean, you couldn't help looking could you? Even you looked, right?"

I gave him a Look. "I didn't get down on my knees to look at the pubic hair thunderbolt," I said. Just speaking the words gave my stomach an unhealthy lurch. How many years of therapy before I got _that_ image out of my head? Or the fact that one of the girls had asked Vinnie something about a duck. I thankfully hadn't caught it, but Vinnie and naked women and the word duck all being present…

I closed my eyes as I put the car in park and wondered if it would be frowned on if I put one of those shock collars on Kloughn to stop him from talking. It made the neighbors' dog stop barking…

Reluctantly I walked Albert to his car, mainly for the pleasure of watching him leave. I took a deep breath as his car angled out of the lot. I hadn't killed him, or anyone else. I was doing good. Sure I was going to have flashbacks of large flabby nakedness… and I could never ever think of lightning bolts without a shudder of horror… and I wasn't sure I could handle ever seeing anyone naked ever again… but other than that, I was fine.

I turned to go into the building and yelped as I bumped into something. A tall, muscled something in black. "Ranger! Don't do that!" I growled. He smiled.

"Big date?"

"It has been a very strange day." I stepped back and walked around him. I was definitely in a state if even running into Ranger wasn't waking up my hormones. Possibly I had just had my entire sex drive killed off.

"How strange?" he asked, following me. Have you ever had a very large muscley, dangerous commando follow you? Try not to. It's freaky.

I stopped and turned to look him in the eyes. "I got Vinnie to go after Bender with me and Lula. And Albert just kind of showed up… anyway, we went. And we thought they were watching a porno movie, so we busted in," I paused to gather my courage, ignoring the amused glitter in Ranger's eyes. "Actually Lula busted in the back and then… then all these naked guys came running out the front, right past Vinnie and me." I shuddered.

"And there was this really big fat one… anyway… yeah, they were making a porno, not watching one. The girls knew Vinnie. One of them asked him about his duck…." I gulped and closed my eyes. Ranger actually tilted his head back and laughed.

So happy to make a guy laugh. Not really. I was in a very anti-male mood. I did smile a little, realizing that I had giggled hysterically when I read it. _Read_. Not lived. Janet is a demon.

"So, is this a business call? Or are you feeling social?" I asked.

"I'm on my way home from a job," he said with a shrug.

"Ah, the elusive Bat Cave…." I paused and frowned a little. There was something sort of meaningful… some kind of moment that was supposed to happen here. But I couldn't remember it. All I could think of was the Rubber Ducky Song. Blech… Add Sesame Street to the list of things what would never be the same. I glanced at Ranger again, closer this time, which was hard in the tricky lighting of the parking lot.

He looked hot, dangerous… and a little tired. I wondered what could have happened on a job to make him feel like checking up on Stephanie.

The next thing I knew I was hugging him. I think I shocked him almost as much as I shocked me. I mean, making a sudden move for him should have gotten me knocked on my ass or something. At least that's what I would have figured, but instead I got hugged back. As I stepped away, I sighed in relief. I guess I'd made a good decision, even if Ranger still was looking at me a little sideways.

"Looks like you could use some body work on your car," he said. _And Stephanie thought he wasn't a human male._

I almost laughed, and felt myself break into a grin. "Long story. Abruzzi put these giant mutant jumping spiders in there while I was at the mall… I figured Jack would have told you all this- he got paranoid when I got a call at the restaurant asking if I liked the spiders." I mean, since he was ready to send up the Bat Signal… Ranger shrugged.

"Haven't seen him today."

Some girls would push this remark, would have wanted to know why. Most times I would have been among them. However, I knew Ranger had had a stressful day and he still had guns on him. Discretion is the better part of valor you know. Speaking of which…

"Well, as long as you're here, want to come up for a glass of wine or something? No Vulcan Mind Probes, I promise." I smiled and hoped I looked charming and guileless.

"Are you inviting me for more than wine?" _Ooh, I know this conversation!_

"Kind of." I said, keeping my eyes wide and bambi-like. _Look how cute I am, you know you want to make sure I don't get killed… _

"Let me guess, you want me to make sure your apartment is secure?" Ranger sounded amused… and faintly, very faintly, resigned. Poor guy, a girl finally wants him for something besides sex, and instead specifically wants not sex. If I was still around for his birthday I was going to get him a plaque that said 'Be careful what you wish for.'

"Yeah, if it isn't too much trouble."

He beeped his car locked- SUV this time- and we went inside. When we got up to the second floor he took my keys and opened the door. He flipped on the lights. Rex paused to wiggle his whiskers at us.

"You should teach him to bark," Ranger said before he set off to prowl through the apartment. I glanced at Rex and shook my head.

"You're a perfectly good watch-hamster, Furby," I said as I dropped another raisin to him. I wasn't sure how often you feed hamsters, but I figured as much running as he did, he deserved to be fed.

I met Ranger in the hall. "No snakes, no spiders, no bad guys," he said, then reached out and grabbed the collar of my jacket and pulled me toward him, brushing his fingers lightly against my neck. "You're running up a bill. I assume you'll tell me when you're ready to settle your account."

I tilted my head and looked at him, suddenly curious. It didn't' help that my hormones were apparently still running for Katmandu, and even the sudden proximity to his yumminess and the very sexy look in his eyes weren't doing much. I got a warm thrill but it just wasn't the usual melting-bones heat wave. I maintain the odd lack of hormones as my defense for my attack of insanity.

"Oh, Ranger," I sighed, opening my eyes wide, looking dazed and happy. "Tell me again about annual percentage ratios…."

Ranger blinked and I tensed my muscles, half ready to duck and run. Then he did exactly what I didn't expect. He laughed. Real, full out laughter. I mentally sighed with relief and allowed myself a real smile.

"You have cuffs, right?" he asked, grinning. My turn to look momentarily blank, as my hormones made an encouraging although badly timed rally, and then my mouth went right off without my brain again…

"Fuzzy or real?" I clapped a hand over my mouth but it was too late, the damage was done. "I mean, no, no I don't… I'm cuffless."

"Fuzzy cuffs, babe?" Ranger arched an eyebrow and smirked. Fuck me… Um, wait, no, don't… damn it. So screwed… Play it off, play it off….

"Everyone has fuzzy cuffs," I said with a careless shrug, ignoring the blush I could feel start to creep up my neck. Ranger's knee touched mine.

"Everyone?" He was close, and my damned hormones had decided to go into full battle mode. Every circuit in my brain was beginning to short out…

"Sure. Jade has cheetah print, and 'Nee has pink fuzzy, and I have the black pair and Mary has the zebra stripes and…" Oh god damn it. I'm going to beat myself for this one… "I need a drink. How about you?"

"You have black fuzzy cuffs?" Ranger asked, looking very intrigued. I took and deep breath and pushed away from him, attempting to disengage his hands from my jacket collar.

"Sure. Less tacky that zebra print and they match everything that way. Don't you just hate it when the props clash? I'm dizzy. I need a drink."

Ranger looked like he had a number of things he could have said. I didn't wait to hear them. I hurried back to the kitchen and pulled out the wine I'd seen stashed away and found the set of wine glasses that I'd found when I'd been looking for food at some point.

I took a large gulp from my glass while mentally calling myself every word for stupid I could think of in English, Spanish, German, and even the one Japanese word I knew. Baka. I wonder if there's a Japanese word for 'Completely brainless.'

"Babe," Ranger said as he entered the room, "If I assured you we would remain friends, would it-" I eyed him cautiously and handed him his glass.

"Would it stop me turning into a gun-shy colt? Possibly." _Not. I know what happens afterward, you see. I know you aren't going to disappear. But I'm not me, and you're you, and so I don't think we should do the us thing…_ "But as much as I trust you, society here still has a very narrow concept of friendship and intimacy and how the two go together. Maybe I'm just nervous about going so much against the societal norms." Ah, I owe my soul to freshman psych…

Ranger had an unreadable look on his face, but he nodded and took a sip of his wine. I downed the rest of my own glass, poured myself a second one, and gestured to the living room.

"How about TV? I'm missing NCIS."

"Feeling better?" he asked as we settled onto the couch.

"Huh? Oh yeah. I've almost gotten the image of the fat naked guy out of my head."

"Babe," Ranger sighed.

"Find NCIS and pray Mark Harmon distracts me, or I swear I'll start giving you details." He gave me a look.

"I could tell you worse." Hah, right buddy. You might have been in the army, but I've been at a Tau Kappa Lumber Party. Four of 'em. I grinned at him.

"Hey, this could be a fun game for stake-outs…"

"Let me know when you're not dizzy," Ranger said.

"It was the handcuffs that did it," I told him.

"And I thought it was thinking of me naked." I laughed at that.

"Normally maybe, Mr. Ego-tastic, but sorry if I've had more than enough naked men for today."

Ranger shook his head and pointed the remote at the TV. "So what's allure of Naval Criminal Investigations?"

I laughed and poured myself a third glass of wine. "You're so going to be hooked. Gibbs is your kindred spirit." Which reminded me… if this was fictitious and in an alternate universe and time line, why was it still the year I was from and why were my favorite TV shows still real? And did I care as long as I still got my Gibbs and Abby fixes?

I glanced sideways at Ranger. He was in SWAT gear, although the gun belt had been discarded at some point, but he still had the Navy SEAL watch and a gun at the small of his back. With his hair slicked back and the shifting lights of the tv on him, he looked like a living action figure. One that had some kind of alter ego as a jungle cat.

"Now what are you thinking about?" he asked finally. I smiled and shrugged.

"Just wondering when your birthday is." Ranger's eyebrow raised, but he answered.

"March 12."

"Good to know," I said and turned my attention back to the screen as the music for NCIS started. At least we weren't watching basketball. That was too weird. I was aware of him watching me now, could almost feel it actually, but then Gibbs was on the screen and I went into my own Zone.

After the second or third time I yawned I realized maybe I should slow down with the wine since I hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. A moment after that realization, it also hit me that I was drinking an awful lot lately. Then again, I thought switching bodies or falling into alternate universes probably gave one solid grounds for alcohol consumption. And it wasn't like I was re-enacting finals week. Yet.

And I hadn't stolen a police car. That was a good sign, I decided. I pulled my feet up under me and settled back into the cushions. Stephanie's couch wasn't designer, but it was comfy.

"How is someone like her working in the Naval crime lab?" Ranger asked as Abby came onscreen. I shook my head.

"No idea. How am I a bounty hunter?"

The corners of his mouth quirked, but he was smart enough not to offer a retort.


	17. Chapter 18

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 18**

_Disclaimer_: It was just a maddened crocodile hidden in a flowerbed. It could have happened to anyone…

_Note:_ Would you like a cuppa tea? Yes, we're all feeling a bit random. You're warned.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

I woke up the next morning on a couch I didn't recognize, covered with an equally unfamiliar blanket. My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. So did my head. I felt a moment of distant, foggy panic forming before I remembered the night before.

Crap. That didn't help.

I had told Ranger about my black fuzzy cuffs. That Stephanie didn't own. And I had passed out in the middle of my favorite show. Now I'd have to wait until the reruns to find out who the serial killer was!

I was still sulking over this when the phone started ringing. Muttering many colorful curses I stumbled upright and more or less careened across the room to pick it up. Thankfully the answering machine kicked on, at which point I decided my time would be better spent in the shower. No one could possibly be more important than me being semi-functioning. I never claimed I was a great humanitarian.

I left the machine to do my dirty work and headed off for the bathroom. When my eyes could finally focus and my skin was getting very wrinkly, I figured I was as good as I was going to get. I dressed in one of Stephanie's lower-slung jeans and a stretchy tee and headed out the door, my mind already working on whether or not I'd have any more skips to chase and whether or not Mac might take it a little easier on me today.

I was halfway to the office when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the LCD and gritted my teeth. Grandma Mazur. Oh lovely. Peachy keen. Just how I want to start my day. I debated ignoring it, but I didn't want to have Stephanie's family hunting me down. God knows what might happen if they called out whatever side Vinnie had come from.

"Well, Ms. Snotty," Grandma Mazur snapped as soon as I connected. "I don't suppose you've heard about the fire?" I sighed.

"No, I hadn't heard about a fire." I refrained from taking the more obvious bait. Railing at these people about accepting emotions and healthy outlets for them wasn't going to get me anywhere. Maybe I could introduce them to some of Mama's less-fruity New Age books later. Anyway… I didn't remember a fire being scheduled in this book…

"Steven Soder's bar burned to the gr-"

"Oh! Soder's bar! Yeah, that one. His partners, right? Or was it—crap, I have to go. Thanks Grandma!" And I flipped the phone shut, tossing it to the passenger side, as I turned into the nearest Mickey D's parking lot. I had to consult the map to figure out where Soder's bar was.

Or did I? What had Steph found at the bar? I bit my lip as I stared down at the maze of colored lines and dots. My memory of details for this book was not nearly as clear as my memories of the more recent ones. I'd liked number ten and nine a lot better. Ten mainly because of that one scene… I wondered how long I would be here. Would it be me playing out that scene eventually? Would it be me living through the Hunt of the Internet Geeks or the Junkman? Would it be me living through this whole Abruzzi incident?

I sat back, staring at the map now without seeing it.

So far, I had sort of played by the rules. I had my own sidelines, but I had followed what Janet had laid out. After all, that had gotten Stephanie through alive. Or it would. Could I risk jumping ahead? Or jumping ship altogether?

Then again, as everything kept reminding me, I was not really Stephanie. And if I wasn't Stephanie, would Janet's plot still see me through safely? So many possibilities. I rubbed my temples and looked up at the McDonald's. Might as well get the Cure while I was here. Maybe the caffeine would help me figure out my next move.

Coke and fries in hand I sat once more in the CR-V and stared at the maps and files spread out on the passenger seat. Nope, it wasn't helping. I sat the fries down and slurped the Coke. Now, if this was me being me… what would I do?

I would piss off Janet to no end is what I would do. I thought about that. I thought about the list of Evil Things that was growing in the back of my mind. I thought about all the things I'd read in the books and wanted to change. Not just the way Joe and Ranger treated Stephanie or the way she ate. Oh no, I had other things that bugged me. Things that, done my style, would drive Janet to distraction.

Assuming she was somehow in control here or was even aware of what went on, but that still didn't change what I was thinking. I need to write this down…

I grabbed the file that held Bender's paperwork and a pen from the glove box and started writing. This would be the To Do list from the 9th Dimension.

The third item on my list was the most troublesome. I could sign up for shooting lessons at a gun club or something, maybe even just flat-out ask Ranger or Eddie, and dating life was no hardship to me. Marijuana was easily found. If events kept going in book-order regardless of what I did, well that other thing was the least I could do for girls everywhere, and the last was not something I was ready to think about now that I had the possibility for so much mayhem at hand, but the third thing… that was tricky.

I could possibly just not do what Stephanie had done, but that meant this book wouldn't end… unless of course Ranger was going to do what Ranger did no matter what. And I thought about that. Since I was the one here it was not Steph's fault or even Janet's if Ranger killed Abruzzi. It was mine.

On the other hand Abruzzi was a monster. A terrorist of sorts. I thought about that, and I thought very carefully about the book and the events that had gone on. I was not Stephanie.

I munched a handful of fries and pulled out of the McDonald's. I had to stop by the office to pick up that stuff on Evelyn because I forgot it the day before. And I was going to be late to the dojo.

"You don't look so good," was the first thing out of Lula's mouth when I walked in. I switched directions mid-stride and headed for the bathroom to do a quick check in the mirror. She was right. I looked slightly dead. Pale complexion, dark circles, very much morning-after chic.

Thank god I had had Mr. Alexander do the straightening or I probably would have been looking mostly dead in a Bride of Frankenstein sort of way. I scrounged through Stephanie's ugly black Coach purse (oddly one of the few things I had no problem referring to as strictly Stephanie's) and dug out some concealer.

"Yeah, I guess I went a little heavy on the wine last night," I called out to Lula and Connie who were watching me through the door with looks of eager curiosity.

"Wine? So, who was he?" Lula asked. "That hot Jack guy? Or you and Batman finally-"

"Yeah, it was Ranger. He stopped by when I was dropping off the Clown."

"Who?" Connie asked.

"Albert Kloughn. That goofy dough boy who came with us last night," Lula told her. "Anyway, what happened with you and Ranger?"

"Nada," I said, finishing off the concealment with a swipe of blue eyeliner and coat of mascara. I added a quick touch of lipgloss and declared myself 'As Good As it's Gonna Get.'

"You're kidding," Connie gaped. "You had Ranger. At your apartment. And wine. And you… didn't do anything about it?" I sighed and pondered this.

"I had just seen Albert Kloughn looking at a porn star's lightning bolt pubic hair and been flashed by any number of ugly, flabby, icky men. In the presence of Vinnie. And I know damn well Candy said something to him about a duck."

Connie shivered and crossed herself. "I could see where that might present a problem."

"Girl," Lula shook her head disapprovingly. "You take too long he gonna lose interest." I shrugged. I highly doubted Janet would be letting Ranger lose interest any time soon.

"So, you have that file on Evelyn for me?" I asked Connie.

"Right here," she said, holding it up and waving it. I took it and started paging through.

"Great, thank you so much, Connie. I gotta run or I'm going to be late to the dojo. I don't think I need to give Mac any additional reasons to kick my ass, so I'll take it." Of course, if I went according to the plan formulating in my head, I wouldn't be getting my ass kicked at all today…

Lula was staring at me. "You going to a dojo? Ain't that like a gym?"

"Just learning a little self defense moves. Can't be a badass bounty hunter if you can't kick the crap out of the bad guys."

"You hate gyms," Connie told me. I frowned and looked at them both. They were staring at me like I had three heads. Crap, think fast, think fast…

"You haven't seen Mac," I said as I turned to go. "Think Ranger's long lost cousin."

I glanced back through the window as I climbed into the SUV and smiled as I watched them both pausing to fan themselves with folders. I looked down at the file in my own hands and sighed. I already knew that I wasn't going to find anything really helpful in Evelyn's file. Janet was never so easy.

A knock on my passenger window nearly made me jump out of my skin. I looked up and sighed when I saw the person looking through the class at me. A feeling of dread began to coil in the pit of my stomach as I unlocked the doors.

Joe Morelli slid into the seat. "You don't look so good," he remarked. "Looks like a hang over."

"Yup. Fries and the Coke are a dead giveaway, huh?" I took a moment to really look at him. He didn't look overly happy to be there. Good. Because just looking at him was making me feel guilty. I hate feeling guilty. I wished he would leave so I would have to.

"Have you heard about Soder's bar?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Let me guess, you can't find him now either?"

"How'd you?"

"Lucky guess. Besides, it seems like disappearing mysteriously is all the rage around here." I sighed, wishing I could disappear mysteriously back to my own world. Of course, I would miss Lula, and Mac, and Jack, and… well, this place had it's good points. Mainly they were people points, but they were entertaining nonetheless.

"You okay, cupcake?" Joe was giving me a funny sideways look. I was getting lots of those looks lately. I guess it happens when you switch personalities. I smiled at him.

"Just tired. Hey, I don't want to be rude, but I'm going to be late…."

Joe looked a little surprised, and just a very little bit hurt. "Late? Where you going?"

"To the gym. I'm getting some self defense training," I said smiling as I remembered our earlier argument. To my surprise Joe didn't look happy. His face clouded over and then suddenly went blank.

"You hate going to the gym."

"It's a dojo?" I offered, confused at the sudden mood swing. Did guys get PMS? Or maybe early menopause? Joe snorted.

"Whatever. Have fun, cupcake," he practically spit the word out and slammed the door. I watched him storm off across the parking lot. My head was beginning to hurt again. Why couldn't guys come with an instruction manual?

Well, I could worry about that later. Right now I had things to do. People to see, havoc to wreak, lives to endanger, and a favor to ask. I took a deep, cleansing breath and pictured warm, calming purple and white lights, letting all the negative energy flow out of me.

Now, let's see… what happens after Soder's bar disappears? Where's Dotty and Evelyn? I thought my way back through what I remembered of the book, really wishing I had reread that one more recently. I had skipped it, as always because I had been so disappointed in Janet's skipping of the RangerSex scene.

All that build-up, books and books of mounting sexual tension and then three bloody paragraphs. Honestly, it should have been a damned 140-page porno. I frowned just thinking about it until I realized once more that I would most likely have to actually live through that scene.

I wondered if maybe I would only remember three paragraphs worth. Would I just wake up the next morning and remember the book's passage word for word? Or would I really have amazing sex… and when would I find the time to write it down and post it to the internet?

Damn it, I was getting distracted again. I needed to focus today. I had to remember what came next… oh. Oh yeah! Camping! They went to that one camp ground. And then they stayed with a couple of Dotty's friends from work… and then they flew to Miami. But Ranger found out when they flew to Miami, so I figured that one was off my worrying list.

I grinned happily, thrilled with my memory banks and with the thought that I could now worry about the other things on my List. I was currently working on number one, and I had to get this one down before I even thought about number three, and hopefully it would also be most conducive to number two.

If Janet was watching, she was going to be very, very unhappy with me….

The phone chirped and distracted me from my evil plans. I hoped it was Jack, or maybe some other date-material. Something hot, Scottish, and funny would have been good. I wasn't sure why but I was very much in the mood to hear a comforting Scottish burr… although Mac did sort of have one come to think of it…

Anyway, the last thing I wanted was Grandma Mazur's voice, but sure enough there it was. "You gotta come over and see this," she said.

I sighed. I really didn't want to know. I really, really didn't. But I was a sucker, so I bit. "See what?" I asked, visions of ugly nakedness and rubber duckies dancing in my head.

"You gotta see for yourself," she insisted.

"Okay. I'm on my way to the gym right now… I'll drop by in a couple hours."

"We need you now!"

"Is someone in the emergency room?"

"No, but-"

"I'll be by in a couple of hours, Grandma," I said patiently. "My teacher is really hot," I added, hoping this would be understandable. "And single," I tacked on quickly. Well, I didn't know that but they wouldn't think I was totally gone, maybe…

"Oh. Well then, have fun. You need any rubbers you call me." I grimaced and suddenly wondered if flabby naked men were so bad comparatively. Ah, to be at home, where my grandparents never even kissed let alone mentioned rubbers… Think about The List, I counseled myself. Think about The List and all the fun you're going to have with it.

I breezed into the dojo, the prospect of a bit of immature mayhem having greatly lifted my mood, and I smiled as I saw Mac coming out of the main gym with a big burly black guy. A really, really big guy…

"Tank?" I asked as they turned to me. "Hey, how are you?"

Tank blinked at me, and I wondered if maybe Stephanie hadn't been accurate about him being kind of a muscle head. "Morning, Ms. Plum."

"Stephanie," I told him again. "Ms. Plum sounds like a teacher in a bad porno." Mac and Tank both grinned at that. Ah, I guess it doesn't matter what universe you're in, guys always know about pornos.

"Stephanie, then," Tank said. I smiled at him and looked at Mac expectantly.

"I'll be with you in a moment," he said.

"Thanks. See you later, Tank!" and I headed off for the locker rooms. I didn't change into my usual work out clothes though. I dropped my bag into the locker and headed back to the room to wait for Mac.

As it turned out, I didn't have long to wait before he came in. He took one look at my jeans and tank top and raised his eyebrows. I smiled, a little nervously. "I need a favor, Mac."

"I wouldn't have guessed."

I sighed and gathered up my nerves. "I was hoping you could, um, you could work with me on shooting a gun," I said it in a rush. "I-I don't like them and I've kind of put off working on it like I should have and now-"

"You have Eddie Abruzzi after you and it might be too late?" Mac sounded amused, and something else that I couldn't figure out. There must be a course for touch commando guys: 'Being Unreadable 101'. I just nodded and looked defeated.

It wasn't like I was the one who'd been putting off learning gun stuff. I didn't have this problem, and anyway, I knew how to shoot Daddy's hunting rifle. It's just that there was a lot of difference between that large, ancient, unwieldy old mammoth and Stephanie's/mine/our/the small sexy little handgun. Like I was pretty sure that you didn't brace it on your shoulder and look through a scope.

"Please Mac? I'll owe you forever and ever…."

Mac gave me a very long, searching look, then sighed and shook his head. "Not that long. Let's go, sweetheart." _Yes, score!_

I grinned and practically ran to go get my stuff. The realization he'd called me 'sweetheart' gave me a couple moments pause at the door to the locker room. Probably Stephanie would have taken exception to that, I realized belatedly. But I honestly didn't care so long as it wasn't a regular occurrence. I sighed and grabbed my bag. _I'm not Stephanie_, I reminded myself, and trying to be her isn't going to get me anywhere but driven slowly crazy.

_If I wasn't already there…_


	18. Chapter 19

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 19**

_Disclaimer:_ Contrary to popular belief I am not Janet. I know you're crushed. And I am not making any money of this, nor will I ever. I know I'm crushed.

_Note:_ It's under construction, it looks rough, and it's only a little over half there, but it's in existence. And that's always the hardest part, lol.

**000000000000000000000000000000000**

Mac took off out of the parking lot like we were headed for a jump to hyperspace. I was pushed back into the Viper's seats and began to wonder if I would ever come unglued… then he started weaving in and out of traffic like we were in the middle of the Matrix car chase. I wondered if I wanted to come unglued. Probably I'd just get tossed around the car like a rag doll. Better to be glued in then.

Luckily of course these sensations weren't completely new to me. Something similar happened whenever you put my mother in the driver's seat of a sports car. Hippy, peace, love, and New Age acceptance to hell- she has to let all that pent-up aggression loose somewhere. The existence of her old Eclipse probably saved my father's life during their divorce. Unfortunately I didn't think Mac would take it quite the right way if I asked him to stop driving like my mother, but the weaving pattern, the sensation of high speeds, and the edge of danger looming in the back of my mind were making me homesick.

I missed my mommy.

Of course when we got to the gun range I quickly got over my homesickness. And a lot of other things that had been frustrating me, once he showed me how to fire the Glock. It was a very fun little toy. It was bright, shiny, made a satisfactory loud noise, and put holes in things. I now understood the old quip about having PMS and a Gun, and wondered if men in general knew how dangerous that might be.

Mac stood very close when he was adjusting my stance. I made a mental note to ask him what kind of cologne he used because it was delicious. When I wasn't being distracted by the yummy-smelling teacher, I was happy to discover I wasn't an awful shot, and that unlike Daddy's rifle, the Glock's recoil was not enough to send me sprawling backwards after a couple shots. In fact, I liked shooting it. I felt like La Femme Nikita, Sydney Bristow, and Buffy all rolled into one.

"Thought you didn't like guns?" Mac asked as we stepped out of the range.

"I didn't. I was scared of them. I guess I've changed." _Into something rich and strange…_

He nodded and put his arm around my shoulders. "It happens."

"Thanks for this, Mac," I said. "I really do owe you." He grinned down at me.

"How about lunch and we'll call it even."

I laughed. "Sounds like a hell of a deal. Lead on, Fearless Teacher."

I didn't get to Stephanie's parents until much later. Mac and I had had a long conversation about his childhood in Scotland, and his time in the military, all leading up to how he got the dojo and such. I had been careful not to let the conversation turn much to me since I had only a sketchy knowledge of Stephanie's pre-bounty hunting days. I had also noticed Mac hadn't made a single mention of Ranger through the whole story and I hadn't asked.

But now, standing in front of the Plum household, it all seemed a million miles away. I wondered if Stephanie had ever gotten this feeling: that the world stopped at her parents' front door. Somehow there was my life outside, but a whole new set of rules inside. Then again she wasn't pretending to be herself, so maybe not.

Grandma Mazur opened the door and ushered me inside. She looked weird. Well, weird in a way beyond her usual velour track suit, chunky Sketchers, and electrically blue hair. I blinked and looked again. Yes, it really was electric blue.

"Nice hair, Grandma," I said slowly, wondering if it was an accident. She smiled and patted it a little.

"Thanks. Just got it done today. I think it's more up-to-date."

"Yeah, it's very… punky." And I spared a moment to wonder if that would be what my generation looked like a few decades from now: a bunch of wrinkly peeps with whacky hair colors and ginormous shoes. Would we be playing Nelly and Snoop on the Oldies stations? Would our grandchildren be 1950's Pleasantville do-wopping?

I cringed and mentally cursed whatever idiot ancestor gifted me with this stupidly random brain. It has to be genetic. I can't have made myself this way…

"So what am I doing here?" I asked to distract myself.

"Come and see," Grandma Mazur said, pulling me further into the house and turning me until I was looking into the living room, specifically looking at who- or perhaps at this late date, what- was in the chair in front of the tv.

Sweet mother of cocoa. I thought Janet was exaggerating the pink fuzzy slippers. I had never before known that two innocuous small and pink fuzzy things could do that….

"It looks like a pink nightmare," I said in awe.

"I wasn't meaning them… but they are pretty bad now you mention it…" Grandma peered at them in sudden interest. "I was talking about your sister."

I drug my eyes away from the Pepto Horrors and glanced questioningly at the person on whose feet they were making their nest. I refused to believe those slippers had not slipped into sentience.

Yikes. And I thought I was bad off. Funny isn't it? Some people can be completely convinces they are having a psychotic out-of-body hallucination and still function (ahem, yours truly) while others go through a minor thing like a divorce and they come… unglued. Well, unglued was an understatement of Valerie's condition but I couldn't think up one drastic enough…

I tilted my head and stared openly, like I had just seen a TK boy walk into a calc class. It was that phase of weird. Valerie was entering the 9th dimension. Her hair looked like my sheep dog's when it went through cockleburs, her robe was stained with goddess-only-knew-what, I wouldn't have touch the clothing under it with a 10 foot pole, and even as I watched she proceeded to scratch her boob and let loose a belch any AKL would have been congratulated on.

"What _have_ you been feeding her?" I asked, impressed in a horrified sort of way.

"Everything. She won't stop eating," Grandma sighed. "I'm beginning to think she might have bulimia." I shook my head.

"Nah. She'd have to move."

"Your mother's taken to cleaning around her. I think she might start ironing if something doesn't happen…."

Looking at Valerie, I mentally calculated my choices. The book dictated I introduce her to Kloughn and let them snoogy-uggums themselves and everyone else sick. Too bad I could no longer even think about Clown Boy without having visions of him in a bath tub with Candy Lightning-Pants and a rubber ducky….

Ugh. I was going to be ill. Nope, sorry Janet, but that is right out. I could dangle Ranger in front of her like a carrot I supposed. Only then I'd probably have to be his slave for life or find myself shipped to Eastern Europe. Although, it was still a vastly amusing idea, with oodles of possibilities… and he hadn't killed Steph over Mrs. Apusenja (of course that hadn't happened yet…). Surely Valerie wasn't that bad? Right?

And anyway, he was surrounded by a whole band of Merry Men. Val would be too busy staring to do any serious stalking probably… Later, I reminded myself. Later I could do this. I had enough on The List as it was. I'd have to settle for something less amusing for now.

"I see that smile," Mrs. Plum appeared at my side, startling me. She was looking at me with a distinctly accusatory air. "It's not funny." Yes, yes it was. The Fall of St. Valerie: New Drama of the week… "She's been like that since she lost her job."

I looked again at the mess that was the formerly pristine and sainted Val. Yesterday's mascara, last week's hair… I bit my lip to keep the offending smile from widening.

"We thought you could find her a job," Grandma Mazur said. "Something to get her out of the house on account of we're getting depressed looking at her. Bad enough we got to look at your father."

I blinked, momentarily confused at why looking at Daddy would be depressing. Plus he was barely ever indoors… oh. Oh yeah, _Stephanie's _father. I looked at Stephanie's mother. "I thought you were getting her a job?"

"She ran through all my contacts. And unemployment is up. I couldn't even get her a job boxing tampons." Mrs. Plum looked utterly defeated, and just a little annoyed. Huh, must be hell when you can't get the child who was supposedly a success to get her butt off the couch…

Sorry. I'm sorry but I'm a bitch I guess. I told you I wasn't a great humanitarian. I'm not. Mrs. Plum had annoyed me from day one, and so had Valerie. I can't help it, I just don't' feel bad. I'm a bad person. Damn it, it's Stephanie's job to be all guilty and shit. Where the hell is she? I'm sick of this part. It's making me feel bad.

_Well, it's the way they're made_, a voice in my head whispered. _They can't help their dependence on men for happiness any more than you can help not understanding it._ I frowned, and turned the idea over in my head. I had forgotten about that. Somehow it made it easier to feel a little bad for Valerie. Not bad enough to excuse the pink slippers, but it was something.

I gathered my thoughts and mentally flipped through my catalogue of movies and scripts until I found one. Myself would not be suitable for this scene. "Grandma, Mr-Mom, would you give us some privacy?" I requested. I waited for Mrs. Plum to nod and pull Grandma toward the kitchen before I took off.

"Valerie, get up!" I called in before I stalked through the doorway. "You have thirty minutes to shower and dress. Ugh, and put up the slippers. No, better yet burn the slippers. Send the demons to the abyss they came from. And please brush your teeth while you're showering…"

Valerie grunted. I took a deep breath and stepped between her and the television. Probably I was taking my life in my hands, but I figured, if I couldn't face her I was going to screwed come time for Abruzzi.

"Valerie! Don't make me shoot the god damned television," I growled, doing my best to look menacing. Valerie's eyes lifted up to my face and I took an involuntary step back. If I had to draw a homicidal maniac, it would have come out looking a lot like Valerie. Courage, don't fail me now.

"Glare all you want BeastWoman, but do you enjoy your kids seeing you like this?" I asked, keeping my voice low as I walked toward her. Soft tones, slow movements…. Why did I leave the gun in the car again? Does anyone have a tranq dart?

Tears started welling up in Val's eyes. Good. Tears don't kill, angry ex-wives do…

"I know it's hard, " I said, crouching down next to the chair, but keeping out of the danger zone of the Pink Nightmares. "I went through this, remember?" Well, not me, exactly, but my parents got divorced…. Did them worlds of good. I've never seen them so happy. Hm, better not say anything about that to Valerie…

Valerie sniffled and nodded. She seemed to struggled for a moment, but finally the dam burst and she was bawling for all she was worth. Frantically I looked around but no tissues were anywhere near. "I thought everything was perfect!" she wailed.

I settled for handing her the cleaner edge of her robe and patting her gingerly on the shoulder. "Yeah, I know," I said quietly. She took this as incentive and launched into a long tirade against men, her husband, marriage, etc. At least I assumed she did- it was hard to tell with all the hiccups and sobs.

I nodded when she paused and bestowed friendly pats where warranted. Wow, it was so weird to deal with someone who actually cared about being married. Culture shock. Just another reminder of how I didn't belong here. I belonged in a world where everyone got divorced as often as possible. In fact some people got remarried for the sheer happiness of divorcing all over again. We take bets on marriages. Generally the only reason to get upset was…. Hey, wait a moment…

"So he took all the money?" I asked Valerie. She nodded tearfully.

"Offshore accounts. And he took from his partners and there's nothing left…" she sniffled.

Never mind. I knew how to deal with this after all.

"Come on, Valerie. You have to get dressed now," I said, taking her hands and tugging her up.

"What? Why—"

"I'm throwing you a party. Tonight. Go get cute."

"I-I c-can'-t. I m-"

"Valerie!" I sighed as I pulled out my cell phone. "The money is gone for now. He'll have it locked in Swiss bank accounts, and he's probably already making up a new identity. You have two choices of what to do about it." Valerie stared at me blankly, so I continued. "You can either stay in that chair and grow mold and let him win. Let him ruin your life and your daughters' lives… or you can get even. Maybe even get everything." Ah hah, the First Wives Syndrome has set in after all. I saw a new light beginning to flare in Valerie's eyes. The light of cold, calculating female anger.

"But you and Dickie-" she said hesitantly. "You didn't-"

"I let him win,' I said authoritatively. "And You know what? I'm sorry I did. But it was just me. You have Mary Alice and Angie to worry about."

"For the girls…"

"Exactly."

"But how am I going to get even with him? I don't even know where he is?"

I smiled at her. This might be fun after all: I could distract myself from the inevitable unpleasantness with Abruzzi, hone my lethal bounty hunting skills, and possibly get that much closer to meeting both number 2 and number 9 on my List of Evil Things…

I shooed Valerie up the stairs, pointedly ignored the curious faces of Mrs. Plum and Grandma Mazur, and stepped onto the front porch to make my calls.

"Jack? This is Stephanie. I—"

"Stephanie, are you okay?" Jack sounded concerned.

"I'm awesome. Mac took me to the gun range. Maybe you should next time. It's great therapy and it'll save you loads of effort." He laughed.

"You sound a lot happier." Guh, of all the times to get all therapy-oriented…

"I am. I have a fun challenge. Wanna help me?"

"Do I even want to know?" he was smiling. I could hear it.

"My sister Valerie's husband left her for the baby-sitter, took off with their money, his partners' money, and lots of other people's money. I want to find him."

"Steph, that's going to be really—"

"Exactly. It's different. It's new. It's challenging. And it will help me improve my finding-people skills." I was bubbling over with excitement now. Maybe I really am evil…

"All right. But how do I fit into this?"

"You're a psychologisty thingy, right? That means profiling stuff. And you know about undercover stuff, too."

"You could ask Ranger," he said slowly. I frowned and thought about it. Yeah, that would have been the smart thing to do but…

"I don't want to take advantage. He's…." I let myself trail off like I was searching for the words. "a busy guy. You're busy too I know, but, well, I dunno.. I just don't feel comfortable asking Ranger."

And that was, for once, pretty much the truth. I was having enough trouble rationalizing one night. A lifetime of sexual servitutde would be… um… right, why the hell wasn't I asking Ranger?


	19. Chapter 20

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 20**

_Disclaimer:_ Alas, This is still Janet's world we are borrowing. We'll put it back together when we are through.

_Note:_ Alyssa has a mind of her own. We give up. And a huge, huge thank you to everyone who commented! Your feedback is greatly welcomed!

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

After I got off the phone with Jack, I called Lula and Connie and explained the emergency- Valerie was unbelievably depressed because she had lost her job and of course her marriage was gone- so would they be interested in a girls night to cheer her up?

I'm not sure if Janet or Stephanie ever realized but Connie and Lula are party girls of Paris Hilton caliber. By that I mean that they will drop anything and everything for a night on the town and they'll do it in style, even if it is a week-night.

I turned to open the door when it opened for me and a changed Valerie walked out. The hair was once more Meg Ryan fresh, the make-up was in it's proper places, and the outfit was Gap-ish. I prefer Banana Republic, myself, but the simple tank top and khakis looked good on her. Add some designer sunglasses and she would be poster girl for yuppie casual.

"Much better," I told her.

"Are we really having a party?"

"We're going shopping first- you're celebrating a new beginning. It calls for new clothes. Club clothes," I specified, remembering something about Valerie having lots of flowers and flowy things.

"Let's go," Valerie said smiling. I tossed her the keys- I still wasn't too clear on how to get to the mall. Connie and Lula were on their way to meet us there, probably already debating what kind of make-over to give Valerie. Poor Val, she wouldn't know what hit her.

"Stephanie, it's your car—"

"Yeah. But you need the empowerment," I grinned. "You're taking control as of now. We celebrate the return of your bachelorette status tonight, and tomorrow we start tracking your ex." We got in the car, Valerie driving, and I started fiddling with the radio stations.

"Steph, what do we do when… we find him?"

"We tell him to give you part of the money, or we'll let his partners know where he is. Probably he'd much rather us just take some money as opposed to his partners taking everything and possibly his kneecaps." Valerie thought about that for a while. I was just guessing about the kneecaps thing but her silence let me know that maybe I was right about it. Huh, I didn't realize Cali had mafia. But I guess it figures. "Or you could just hit him with the Buick," I added.

Valerie laughed. "Don't tempt me."

Bowling for Soup came on, singing 1985 and I left it on. I thought it was pretty appropriate to Valerie. We bopped along to it in silence.

The mall passed by in a blur of Valerie protesting and Lula, Connie, or me overruling her. I began to feel like I was trapped on an episode of What Not to Wear, and it was fun. Well, sort of fun. Okay so I bailed out midway through Macy's to go in search of my own outfit. I wasn't too thrilled with Stephanie's clothes, and anyway, some of them were starting to fit a little loosely. It's amazing what happens when you drop the doughnuts.

Actually, I hadn't been eating much period. With the work-outs and the decreased calorie intake it was showing pretty quickly. I was feeling pretty good about my… erm, well, the body I was in. Stephanie would definitely be thanking me when/if she got back.

Of course she'd celebrate by going out and snarfing a box of those Tasty Kake things, and then never setting foot in the dojo again… damn, just the thought of it annoyed me. Come to think about it, what would she do if she were back right now?

I sat down on a bench outside of Rainbow and considered what might happen. She would be happy she had a new guy to date. She'd probably take Jack to dinner at her parents' house. After all, she was always wanting dates to fall into her lap, I thought bitterly. I sighed as I realized of all the scenarios I could dream up happening when Stephanie reclaimed herself, I didn't like any of them. And anyway, she'd just end up bouncing between Joe and Ranger and doing exactly what the books laid out. Well, not if I could help it, I decided. My List would make that difficult, but I was going to make it impossible.

I stood up and headed into Rainbow. I had my mission. It was probably impossible, and it was just one more thing to tack onto my List of Evil, and I might really regret it, but it was one of those things.

I spared a moment to thank Janet for giving Stephanie a smaller figure, thus allowing me to shop in my favored spots for party clothes. I don't know what I would have done if I'd ended up in Connie's or Lula's bodies. Probably become anorexic or sat outside of Gadzooks, Rainbows, and Rave, crying my eyes out.

I'm a clothes horse, you see. I have a permanent addiction to the thrill of trying something on for the first time, to that surge of happiness that comes when you see it in the mirror and realize: Yes, it was made for me!. At least Stephanie and I have shopping in common, even if she stays in Macy's and Victoria's Secret.

Looking around me at the clothes crammed into Rainbow, I felt the familiar zing as my eyes settled on The Top. It was black, one-shouldered, with a single long draped sleeve, slashed and held together only at the elbow. The club we had chosen was The DP, so I would definitely be wearing pants. I never felt comfortable bumping and grinding in a skirt. So I looked around for pants or jeans to go with my latest find.

A half hour later and fifty bucks poorer I had my outfit from the top to the shoes, so I checked up on Valerie and Co. They were still in Macy's, but they had a little black dress picked out and were fighting over shoes.

"Wow, you look like you just had sex," Connie said as I walked up to her. I laughed.

"Yeah, last time I saw that smile you just spent the night with the cop," Lula added. Valerie looked vaguely traumatized.

"Better than sex, guys. Look at these shoes!" I pulled out my purchases and showed them off.

"Oh my god," Connie gasped. "Those are gorgeous." I looked down at them happily. The ankle strap criss-crossed before it buckled, and the heels were thick enough to dance on without being chunky. Of course, once you've learned how to can-can in almost 2-in heels without breaking your ankle, there isn't much you can't dance in.

"Just remind me not to get too drunk or I really won't be able to walk in them," I requested.

"Hey, now you're here, you decide," Lula said, holding up two pairs of black shoes. I glanced from the shoes to Valerie and back again, then looked at the dress. The shoes were both black strappy sandals, but one pair had thinner straps and more heel. I picked them.

"Val, we're going to a dance club, not a day at the bank," I told her seriously. "And it's your turn to look effing hot, not just nice. Save nice for PTA meetings."

"My feet are going to be killing me! I'll get blisters!" she protested.

"So sit down and con some guy into buying you a drink," I advised. "That's why slow songs were invented- to give you time to sit down."

"Slow dancing is romantic," Val said, looking a little dreamy. I wrinkled my nose.

"It's an excuse for guys to grope you," I said.

"You're so un-romantic, Steph," Val complained. I shrugged. "But I'll take the shoes."

Lula and Connie had picked up some clothes from their own places on the way here, but had at some point found things they preferred while dragging Valerie around. Funny how that happens.

So we changed in the ladies' room in Macy's before leading into our cars and heading out, Lula and Connie leading the way in Lula's Firebird. I felt a stab of envy watching it's sleek red body glide along in front of us. Oh, the things I could do with that car… if only I drove a clutch. I sighed and thought longingly of home, where Andy had promised to teach me how to drive a clutch this summer on his old RAV-4. and even more longingly of my own beloved silver Eclipse sitting in the parking lot of Hudson Hall. Probably an Eclipse wouldn't work for bounty huntering, though. I sighed and considered whether this alone was grounds for changing Stephanie's job description.

Too bad I didn't know what her college major was, or her exact employment history. Or her résumé. I finally discarded the idea. Besides, this job would give me interesting experiences and a different perspective. Mom always told me I should do something unique, outside the norm. She said the routine of an office job would kill your spirit faster than anything, including war. Maybe Stephanie was right- maybe it was the pantyhose.

Either way, it was a moot point. I didn't have the knowledge to land Stephanie a normal job; the best I could do was work on getting this one under control. I realized belatedly that we were pulling into the parking lot of the DP and all my deep thoughts flew out of my head. Dancing, drinking, and flirting were the order of the night.

There was a line a mile long and we walked resignedly past the door to get started waiting, but a yell from the bouncer stopped us in our tracks.

"Hey! Lula, Alyssa!" he called, his voice so deep I could have sworn my ear drums rattled. I jumped at hearing my own name, then cringed as I saw Val and Connie looking curious, but I followed Lula back to the door. The bouncer grinned down at us and lifted the ropes. "You're in," he said simply.

I smiled at him gratefully, not even caring to question what stroke of luck had led to it, and pulled Val and Connie in with me. Lula pushed open the door and the fog swirled out to engulf us in the empowering haze of light and music.

We were barely to the bar when Lula handed out shots to each of us. We all touched and downed them. Valerie loosened up after another shot.

I took a third drink, this time just a margarita, but things were already getting a little warm and happy around the edges. By the time the margarita was half gone, Valerie was dancing with a nice looking guy I'd have bet money was either in business or an up-and-coming Mafioso. Being that this was Jersey it could have gone either way.

Connie was rubbing her boobs against some decently hot, definitely Italian, and certainly married guy. Lula had found herself another tall, hot and thugly. Or maybe it was the same one… they turned a little. Yep, same one. She was dancing with Tank. A theory began to form in my slightly-foggy little brain.

I looked through the crowd, in search of a possible target. A-ha. Control, we have a visual… engaging target now…

His eyes met mine. Target locked. I smiled and tipped my glass his way before letting my attention wander some more. Easily done even sober. Drunk, it does that even when I want to focus.

Besides, something about things traveling in threes was in the back of my mind. Maybe it meant snakes? No, I think that was twos… bad things? Bad things in threes? But did these classify as bad things?

Then again, many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view. God I love you Obi-Wan. Especially when you look like Ewan McGregor… Damn. Why is it always Star Wars when I get drunk?

I pondered my drunken Star Wars mania by looking soulfully into my Margarita, then downing the rest of it. Jedis don't have sex. Except Anakin, and look where that leads. Stupid rule. I waved to the bartender and asked him for an orgasm.

He was the same one from the last time, but he didn't recognize me. Probably it was the hair, but he made the same crack as last time. I made the same response.

"Multiples, always. Screaming… if you can do that?" I purred, then smiled. He smiled back and slid me the drink. A double screaming orgasm. Take that Obi-Wan.

I didn't gulp it down, and chose instead to take a smaller drink. I didn't want to be throwing up again tonight. I hated throwing up drunk. It's like throwing up sober, of course, except that it's ten times worse.

"Excuse me?" interrupted a male voice. I turned to inspect its owner. Oh, hello, Target. I smiled. Target was hot, vaguely Hispanic, but maybe not really Hispanic. He definite had a mixed heritage, but it gave his looks that edge of exotic that made you want to have sex with him for the hell of it. Or maybe that was the tequila talking. "Hi," I said, and waved toward the empty seat next to me. "Care to sit down?"

"Actually," he grinned and I considered jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist just to know what would happen, "I was just going to ask you to dance?" he held out his hand.

I laughed. Dance? All right, I'd dance with him. Another few shots of tequila and I'd do a lot more than that. But dancing would work for now. I downed my double screaming orgasm and placed my hand in his. "Let's dance… you got a name?"

"Lester," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the music. _Santos_, I finished for him_, Employer: Ranger Manoso_.

I licked my lips as he led me toward the dance floor. This was going to be _fun_. Poor Lester.

We just reached the dance floor when a club mix of Lose My Breath came on. My smile widened into the one that always made Chelsea mutter something about Christians and lions. I put my hands on his shoulders and moved closer to him.

"Make me lose my breath," I mouthed in sync with the song as we began to move. Lester's eyes widened, but I couldn't tell exact expressions in the haze of fog, smoke, and shifting lights.

Then I closed my eyes and let the music take hold. I opened them a heartbeat later, but I wasn't really seeing anything. I was dancing, and nothing else mattered beyond moving with the flow of words and music. I turned my back to him and slithered down him, then back up and a quick half step back, moving my arms and hips…. Stepping closer, matching his movements…

The orgasms started to hit and the world began to blur out more and more, the colors becoming warmer and brighter. I am a very happy drunk. And I can also dance when completely hammered, so I wasn't worried- I was accustomed to Stephanie's body now. It moved when I told it, the way I wanted it to.

If only I could figure out how to get a guy to do that…

Of course, Lester wasn't doing such a bad job. He was a hell of a dancer. I wondered if he did salsa, and if I could convince him to be my new partner if he did.

Hell, it was hard to find a guy who was a good dancer and I'd found two now. I'd have to marry one of them…. I laughed, and danced a little closer to Les, wondering for a moment what Ranger would do if Stephanie woke up some morning in Las Vegas married to one of his employees.

Some other time. I wasn't in the mood to fly to Vegas. I was in the mood for dancing like a stripper.

At some point in the evening, Tank broke in and became my dance partner. And I do mean _broke_. The friendly hand on Les's shoulder nearly sent him crashing into another couple a few steps away. I waved to him. Les was hot- tall, handsome, exotic, infinitely sexy. But Tank was taller, and really, really tank-like. I wanted to know if he could move that big bulky body…

He didn't let me find out. Instead he escorted me back to the bar and ordered us both a water. I considered enlightening him as to what rapid drinking of water can do when you're only just beginning to sober up, but decided I liked the idea of getting a little extra drunk-time.

"Hey Tank, long time no see!" I said. His lips tipped up in the suggestion of a smile.

"Think you need to be getting home, Stephanie."

I frowned and thought about that. Home. Hamster. T.V. Boring. Nope. "I don't want to. I'd rather dance. Do you wanna dance, Tank?"

He shook his head. "Not right now."

"Then where's Lester?" I said, looking around. "I liked him. He dances."

"Les went home, he was pretty far gone." _Funny, he didn't seem that drunk…_

"Rats. I wanted to get his phone number, or give him mine…. Exchange them…." I sighed and gave up. "Ensure the routes of communication were open if so desired."

Tank raised an eyebrow. "Looked like you might have been wanting more than that?" Huh, maybe wearing a thin top and no bra wasn't so brilliant? Eh, oh well. More fun that way anyway.

I smiled and shrugged. "Dancing is dancing. Actually, it's better than sex. No awkward morning afters and no one sees you naked. And no STD's." Tank shook his head.

"Yeah, but it doesn't feel as good."

I sighed. I guess not everyone felt the way I did about dancing. About totally giving up control and letting the music tell you where to go… or the choreographer, but either way, the moves and the music were all that counted, feeling what the musician had been trying to say… It was almost more intimate than any sex I'd ever had. Huh, I guess I'd been intimate with a lot of musicians then…

"You're not doing it right," I said. Tank stared at me in disbelief. "Dancing, silly. I'd guess if you're a guy you're kind of born knowing how to do sex right…. Well, right for you. Sex right for the girl takes some practice."

Tank laughed and shook his head. "Come on," he said, taking hold of my elbow. "You definitely need to get home."

"What about Valerie?" I asked. "My sister was dancing with this…" I frowned and looked around the club, and peered into the misty depths of the dance floor. "I don't see her…"

"She left with some guy an hour ago."

Shit. Well, it was allowed by the rules of College Dating. One free, forgive-all pass for a one-nighter post break-up. I just hoped Val would see it that way in the morning. Hopefully she wouldn't propose to him.

I gave Valerie up for gone and let Tank guide me out of the club. I hoped Lester wouldn't get in trouble… nah, surely not. Ranger didn't really care about Steph at this point in the game, probably.

I talked to Tank as he drove me back to my building, but I was just rambling- the water was making me a little more tipsy than I had been. Since I was drunk, and therefore happy to ramble on, I saw no reason for Tank's lack of speaking to cramp the conversation. I told him he seemed really nice, and I asked if he had a thing for Lula, but he just gave the trademark suggestion-of-a-shrug and I moved on.

"So, you guys all go to the DP a lot now, or are you just hoping to see me and the girls?"

Tank's eyes flicked to me and back to the road.

"Y'all have been there both times we were there. Well, you have been, and I think Lester might have been there last time… where's Jack- I didn't see him? And Lester does work for RangeMan, doesn't he? Or did I hallucinate that one?"

"Jack's working. And yeah, Lester works for RangeMan," Tank said. "You've been on a job with him."

"I thought he looked familiar." I thought he matched a description. And how many exotic-looking Lesters can there be?

We pulled to a stop in front of my/Stephanie's/our… the building of our destination. You'd think someone would think up a possessive for special body-possession cases….

I leaned across the seat and hugged Tank awkwardly. "Thanks, guy. You rock. See you at the dojo or something, right?" He nodded. "Okay, night!"

"Good night, Stephanie," he sounded bemused. Huh, didn't know people could honestly sound like that word…

I grinned and waved at him before making my weaving way into the building. I noticed the roar of his engine as the door closed. Aw, he really was sweet.

Big muscly, dangerous, growly, killer teddy bear, really…

I giggled and pushed the button for the elevator. I would have taken the stairs but I'd had enough of stairways while drunk. Goddess only knew what body I might land in this time…

I leaned back against the wall of the elevator and thanked my lucky stars Steph lived on the second floor .Elevators and drunk Alyssas don't mix. I start feeling claustrophobic and nauseous.

The doors opened and I lunged for freedom, catching my heel in the process, and sending me sprawling to the ground. I landed hard, and immediately curled into a fetal position to wait it out as the universe took a step to the left and jump to the right.

When it was finished I rolled up onto my knees and crawled the few feet to the apartment door. I've never had such a lucky crawl session in my life, because being on the floor allowed me to see the lights flickering around inside. I frowned and my heart rate sped up. I looked at the door number. Nope, right apartment…

I pressed my ear against the door. Voices. I heard voices…. And I hadn't left the tv on. Or the radio…

My chest felt too tight as my heartbeat started thumping loudly. I looked around for a hiding place. There was just the bare, undecorated hallway. No convenient cubby holes or furniture, so that left the elevator.

I got carefully to my feet and scurried back inside it. I didn't have a gun or a flak vest. I did have a psychopath after me. No bloody way I was going in that apartment.

The lobby wasn't any more promising than the hallway, except for the couple wingback chairs. I looked at them speculatively. Nope, no good. How long did I have before whoever was in the apartment came down? I walked outside and ran around to the back as an idea finally hit me. Bushes. There were bushes in back. I could hide behind bushes.

I found the shrubbery in question. They weren't exactly ideal, but it was dark and there were lots of shadows. And I was wearing a black top and darker jeans. I might blend in a little….

I climbed behind them and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the first number that came to mind.

"Yo," said an irritated and deeper-than-usual voice. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Ranger?" I said quietly, conscious of how loud my voice sounded in the relatively quiet city night.

"Babe, do you know what time it is?" Crap, I forgot about that…

"I know, last time I called this late I was probably naked and chained to the shower rod," I said softly. "But I swear, I'll arrange that if you just please come over—"

"What's wrong?" Oh sure, now I had his full, alert Bat- Attention. Mention nakedness and handcuffs… typical male.

"Someone's in my apartment. I just got home and they-" A small noise on the fire escape silenced me.

"Babe?" Ranger's voice sounded so loud… "_Babe_?" I cringed and gently eased the phone shut.

He could kill me later. But if it was a choice between death by Abruzzi or death by Ranger, I was picking Ranger. Another sound…

Something rattled. There were definitely footsteps….

I bit my lip and didn't even dare to breathe. I am the bush… Just a shadow … The fire escape was rattling now… I turned my head slowly to try and get a look. It was all the movement I dared to make.

I couldn't see anything. The whole thing was in shadow. Wait.. .a flash of movement. There, now there… I closed my eyes and thought of safe, warm, happy places I'd have rather been.

The crash came with the finality of the end of the world, the echoes bouncing off the stone walls and the parking lot, rolling off into infinity. Then came the indignant yowl of an annoyed alley cat. I opened my eyes to see it stalk just in front of the bush, still sporting coffee grinds and a single orange peel wrapped around its tail.

The wave of panic dissipated only to be instantly replaced. Ranger. _I had just hung up on Ranger_. Cripes. Why hadn't I called Joe? Or Jack? Or… I thunked my head back against the brick wall and settled in to wait.


	20. Chapter 21

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 21

_Disclaimer:_ Guess what? I'm still not Janet and I'm still not making a profit on this. But hey, if she wants Alyssa, I'm sure we could negotiate a deal.

_Note:_ Reality canbite anyone. Even brats like Alyssa…

-

I didn't hear any further movements from the fire escape. Maybe it had just been the cat. If I tried really hard and ignored the voice in the back of my mind, I could believe that. I could believe I hadn't really heard someone mutter something in Italian or heard the roar of a car engine nearby.

It was just the cat, after all.

Stephanie isn't the only one who's good at denial, Janet. I smiled at my inner dialogue, and laughed silently. Laughter was good. Keep smiling. Keep joking. Because somewhere in the recesses of my alcohol-fogged brain, the next interesting twist in Janet's demented little saga had surfaced. Keep smiling. Keep joking. Because if I thought about it I was going to start crying and if I started crying now I was never going to stop…

I heard another engine and saw an SUV pull into the lot. I froze and all thoughts flew out of my head as it rolled to a stop and the door opened. A huge silhouette climbed out- the size of person who actually made the monstrous SUV look practical. I'd only seen one guy in this cracked-out place who did that: Tank.

The silhouette moved and I caught a glimpse of his dark skin and forbidding features. Yep, that was Tank. Tank was a good guy. Killer teddy bear, remember? I sat and watched him. Come on, this was Tank for crying out loud… I told myself to move, to get up and walk toward him. Tank was Ranger's guy- he baby-sat Stephanie, he'd help…

My legs wouldn't move and my jaw was clamped tight. I was frozen. My imagination, usually so happy and random was stuck on showing me one single image over and over- a big guy sitting flopped over on Stephanie's couch, eyes glazed over and dead.

Sawed in half dead, remote still in hand.

My breathing was rapid and shallow as the image slowly overtook everything else. He was real. He was dead. Oh my god. Someone was really, truly dead. _They killed people here._

Suddenly number three on my To-Do list seemed a lot more important. Suddenly it wasn't just a distant annoyance. Because now they killed people, and that meant that they could kill me. Janet couldn't be counted on to save me. I knew for damn sure her plot couldn't be counted on- her plot killed people.

And I wasn't Stephanie.

I wasn't Stephanie, I had no right to call out to Tank for help. I had no right to ask Ranger for help either. Or Joe. I was on my own. I wasn't Stephanie.

The image of the lopsided dead man watching TV wouldn't leave my head. I never thought I'd long for a mental image of Candy and rubber duckies, but I guess I'd finally discovered the levels of horror…

I barely registered when the black truck with the bug lights on top sped into the lot. Ranger. Batman was here to save the day. He got out and spoke with Tank. I noticed a third person was there; I thought he might have gotten out of Tank's SUV. But it was all so far away…

The person I didn't recognize was walking toward me. I remained where I was. I couldn't move- I was trying, but nothing was responding. This wasn't even my body, why the hell should it?

But there were tears sliding down my cheeks, so it wasn't totally not mine.

The man began climbing the fire escape. Tank and Ranger had disappeared. He wasn't making any noise. How did he do that? Or was I just not hearing him? Had I heard anything recently?

You ain't goin' crazy, it's all in your head, Diamond Rio sang softly in the back of my mind. It's all interpretation, to find the truth you gotta read between the lines. Work our your own salvation; that narrow path is hard to find, but it's more than a place, it's a state of mind.

The words sank into my terrified brain and brought with them images of home- of the studio where I had danced to them, of the Wild Horse Saloon with Tim last summer… I'd heard that song so many time sand I just now got the words.

I could breathe again. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and stood up, careful to remain in the shadows. It wouldn't do to let them find me cowering and frozen. Wouldn't be in character for either Stephanie or for me. Blame it on the alcohol, I decided. Now, my next course of action, since I could move again…

I looked up at the shadowy escape. I couldn't see anyone, but I hadn't heard any shots firing either. I bit my lip and debated what to do. I let out a long breath and visualized calming white light, tinged with blue.

Time to face the music….

I walked around the front and slipped inside, taking a moment to accustom myself to the lighting and look around for possible threats. Gods, I'd be sitting with my back to the wall next…

Slowly I crossed the lobby and pushed the button for the elevator. The adrenaline had burned off most of the alcohol, but the idea of the dark, echoing stair case filled me with an empty dread I preferred not to face. And I didn't trust myself not to walk up to the top and throw myself down them. Part of me knew I wouldn't wake up back in my own body, but part of me had begun to take on a crazed desire to get out no matter what the cost, so long as I wasn't in this cracked-out world.

It was the alcohol talking, probably.

The elevator doors slid open and I stepped out into the hallway. My door was cracked open and I walked toward it, my steps slow but mostly steady, my eyes fixed on the door knob. Just reach out… take hold of it… push inward…

I looked up to find Tank lowering his gun. I guess it had been pointed at me. I tried to smile, but I didn't quite manage it. "We really need to stop meeting like this…" My voice only wavered a little. I was happy. _Just smile, Alyssa. Keep laughing. _

I stepped inside and Tank moved to block my way. I didn't try to move around him. I knew what was on the couch. No point in making it real. "Who was here?" I asked, trying to sound as if it wasn't really important. Just another every day break-in.

Tank was looking at me. I mean, really looking. Analyzing. He was pretty much unreadable, but I had the idea he was waiting for me to fall apart and trying to decide whether he would have to shoot me or just knock me out.

"Babe?" Ranger's voice came from the living room.

"Hey," I called, trying to sound normal. _Honey, I'm home! Get the dead guy off the couch…_

He appeared around Tank and I mentally cringed. I'd wondered what an unhappy Ranger looked like, in a theoretical sort of way. I hadn't actually wanted to know. My theoretical thoughts had had him glaring and dangerous. The real Ranger was blank. His features, his eyes, it was all completely blank. No emotion.

I thought the glaring and dangerous would have been better.

"Where have you been?" he said quietly. I could almost feel the icy arctic winds billowing around me. I swallowed and shrugged.

"I—I hid. And then I couldn't move… I just couldn't…" I took a shaky breath and moved on. Next topic. No crying jags now. "Is it… what's in there?"_ Please don't show me. Please, please, don't show me… _

"Steven Soder" Ranger said grimly, "and yes, he's dead." He stepped closer. "You hung up on me," he growled. I winced and looked at the ground. I couldn't even face him. I wasn't Stephanie.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ranger. I should never have called you, I know that. I just panicked. I didn't have my gun or anything and I heard someone and I…" My voice trailed off as my throat tightened. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I waited for… I don't know what I was waiting for. For a death blow? For the kidnap team to show up and ship me off to Ethiopia? Whatever I was waiting for it wasn't what happened.

Instead, I found myself being kissed. It was soft, non-threatening. No pressure, no tongues, only a little heat. And then I was being hugged and Ranger's voice was in my ear.

"Don't ever hang up on me, Babe," he said quietly, then, "…No me asustes como esto otra vez."

"I didn't mean to," I offered. He let out a breath that might have been part laughter, and released me. He leaned back a little and cupped my cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing away a tear. I hadn't even realized I was still crying.

"I know," he whispered. There was a long silence.

"Boss, you need to look at this," a semi-familiar voice called as Tank reappeared from the living room.

'You might wanna call the cops," he said in his own deep voice.

Ranger nodded and looked at me. I just shrugged. "Might as well," I told them and pulled out my cell. Using the apartment phone meant stepping closer to the living room and risking a glimpse of what was in there. No way in hell was I doing that. "You guys can go if you want," I added. "I know how y'all feel about paperwork and cops in general."

I stepped back out into the hallway and started going through the phone book. I was familiar with Steph's listing insofar as I knew where Ranger, Mac, Joe, the office, and Jack were located. The police station took a second to find.

Ranger and Tank walked out of the apartment followed by the third person I hadn't recognized. Seeing him, I momentarily forgot what I was doing. "Lester!" I said with genuine feeling.

"Hey gorgeous. Ain't seen you in a while,' he said, grinning.

"Yeah, it's been whole entire hours." I found myself grinning back at him. He just had that look. You couldn't help but smile back.

"Interesting house guests you keep." Ugh. Lester, you're on my good side, don't blow it now…

"Dead guys are all the rage now," I said flippantly, although my voice sounded strained even to my ears. I turned my attention back to the phone and hit the call button. I was giving the 911 dispatcher my address before I realized something else: Why hadn't I just called them to start with? What on earth had possessed me to dial Ranger's number?

The cops arrived just as I was convincing myself that it was my typical drunken brain in its usual random mode that had caused me to think of calling Ranger instead of 911 like a normal human being.

Tank had thought to get Rex's cage out before he left, so it was just me, terrified girl wonder that I am, Hamtaro, and Batman sitting in the hallway. Ranger had been silent since the other two had left, and it was starting to make me edgy.

Well, not really his silence, but silence in general. Silence led to thinking and thinking was not something I wanted to do just then. I turned looked at Rex thoughtfully.

"I want to get him a new cage but I keep forgetting. One of those plastic space-age thingys, and a hamster ball. Have you seen those? They're neat, they're these big balls the hamster can get in and you let them roll around in them…"

Ranger glanced at me, the ghost of some expression drifting across his features.

"And if you're holding me to the handcuffs promise, I need some warning, okay? Because I can't find my fuzzy cuffs. And I hate normal handcuffs. They leave marks. It's not fun when there are marks." I frowned and looked uneasily back at the door to my apartment. The door to the house of horrors.

"You know something? I think this is karmic retribution. I mean, I really like this life. Awesome friends, lots of fun, excitement, and all that… so I guess this is just the down side, right? Like, you can't have everything great, and since some parts are so great you have to have parts that are just horrific…" _Oh my god, someone stop me, I'm starting to sound like Kloughn!_

Ranger's hand touched the back of my neck and then somehow I was much closer to him than I had been. "Proud of you, Babe," he said.

I turned to meet his gaze and smiled, warmed by the words in spite of myself. So what if he thought I was Stephanie? I was her for all practical purposes, right? And if she wanted this life back, she could damn well come and get it back. I wouldn't stop her. Besides, he was proud of her actions and her actions were mine. So there, Janet.

The elevator opened and two uniforms stepped out, looking annoyingly amused. Now, Ranger has a weird sense of humor, but he has nothing on cops. Cops are warped. Comes from dealing with people too much.

Soon the apartment was buzzing with cops and I was aware I was probably going to chew my bottom lip off out of sheer nervous tension. I made an effort to stop it, but then I started chewing on my fingernails. I thought about attempting to stop this but I was afraid I might start sucking my thumb. That would be undignified.

So my manicure slowly went to hell.

Morelli showed up eventually and came to sit next to me, with only a cursory territorial glare at Ranger. I let it pass. But unfortunately at some point this evening Ranger's hand had become my security blanket and to hell with anyone making anything of it. Then again I thought of Ranger and company as sort of a different breed of cowboys. Cowboys were familiar, a part of my old life. Maybe I was just clinging to the illusions of familiar things.

Honestly anyone's hand would have done. I was in bad enough shape I might even have held Vinnie's hand. I would have been holding Rex but I remembered he bit. I was pretty sure Ranger only bit when naked. Or on really special occasions.

"Is he okay?" Morelli asked, looking at Rex. Good cop move- test the waters, ignore the annoying mercenary, and distract the witness in one fell swoop.

"He's fine."

"How about you? Are you okay?" he looked at me, and I could see the worry. I gave him a shaky smile and nodded.

"Peachy keen." I pretended my eyes weren't filling up with tears again. I pretended I wasn't holding Ranger's hand because a cowboy was a cowboy and deep down I just wanted my dad. I pretended I didn't really just want to wake up in my suite and laugh about this over smoothies and turkey wraps with my best friends. Keep smiling. Keep laughing. Don't cry now because you'll never be able to stop.

"This is bad," Morelli said. "This isn't just fun and games anymore." _Oh, but it is, Joey-boy. It's Janet's fun and games. _"We'll question the neighbors, see if they heard or saw anything unusual… but you can't stay here tonight. Where will you go?"

I thought about that. At home I could go to Mom's, or fly out to Daddy's, or my grandparents', or go to various friends' apartments because we were in college and if a friend needed to crash on the couch you let them. Hell, I could even have ended up going home w/ Chelsea to her parents'. But here? What was there here?

"My parents' house for the night," I said at last. Hotels were too isolated, so it was the only choice really.

Morelli nodded, stood up, then disappeared into the apartment. I looked at Ranger.

"I could put you in a safe house," he said, with some humor in his voice.

"Why? Have one you need tested?" His lips turned up in a hint of a smile. "No, but thanks anyway, Range. You've done more than enough for me, and I hate to impose on friends."

He arched an eyebrow but didn't comment on it. Instead he looked up as Morelli reappeared with a small duffle bag of what I assumed were some clothes and such. "I'll take you to your parents'," Ranger said.

"Okay," I nodded and took the duffle from Joe. "Thanks, Morelli," I told him. Joe's eyes narrowed as he looked back at Ranger, then he leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

There it was again, that urge to kick him in the shin and run. I smiled at him and wondered what would happen when I gave in and did it.

The drive to Stephanie's parents' was quiet and uneventful- Ranger didn't even comment when I turned the radio to a pop music station and bopped along to the sweet thoughtless bubblegum sounds of Mandy Moore's _Candy_. I steadfastly ignored the odd sensation in my spine when Bowling for Soup's _The Girl All the Bad Guys Want_ played. The lyrics didn't fit this life, but damned if the title wasn't made for it.

I said good night to Ranger and escaped without a kiss, just a brush of his knuckles against my neck and a playful tug on my hair. It had at least gotten me to smile.

Somehow the Burg grapevine had gotten to the house ahead of me, and for once Stephanie's mom didn't say anything. She just made me macaroni and cheese. I was touched, so I forced down a few bites and proceeded to do some artful pushing and prodding off the noodles around my plate so it looked like I had actually eaten.

I fell asleep on the couch, thinking longingly of Xanax and Tylenol PM. I kept dreaming, all night long. Images of home, of my parents and friends laughing and enjoying themselves, but I wasn't a part of it. I wasn't there, and it was like I never had been. I was outside, looking in through a window or a door, but they were closed, locked, and there was no way to get inside.

I raised my hand to bang on the glass, but somehow I just couldn't do it. Instead I turned and walked away, finding myself out front of Plum Bail Bonds. Vinnie wanted to know where I'd put the duck. And Ranger translated his words into Spanish for the benefit of Hector. I thought that was weird, since I hadn't met Hector yet.

My eyes flew open and I felt painfully awake. Ranger had said something in Spanish, back at the apartment... And I had mistranslated it. Asustes, not… the breath rushed out of my lungs and I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow to muffle the frustrated yell.

_Janet Evanovich, when I get my hands on you… You devious, sneaky little…_ Damn it. I pulled the cover over my head and curled into a fetal position. I had specifically thought he wasn't- he didn't- Oh hell. This was going to take some massive restructuring…

And what about number 3? After tonight, I had to come up with a plan. The ghost of one was forming, but I didn't see any way it would work. Maybe if I just took it one day at a time, avoided getting kidnapped, and all that jazz. I might be able to buy myself time enough to work out the finer points…


	21. Chapter 22

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 22

**Note:** Not sure if there are Priscilla's in Jersey, but if not just substitute the name of some other store specializing in fun sexy stuff. Also, there is a side plot/explanation that we can't decide on. So, everyone who's really enjoying this so far: _Do you really want Alyssa totally explained or do you prefer her being a mystery/possible alternate personality?_ AND _Would__ you object to Janet showing up in a fic_? Think of this as a "Choose You Own Adventure" opportunity.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. This is still not making money and it's still not written by Janet.

**00000000000000000000000000**

I must have finally dozed off because I woke up to the sound of yelling. Apparently someone, my guess being Mr. Plum, was hogging the bathroom. I pulled my duffle toward me to see what Morelli had thrown together for me to wear.

It's a matter of scholarly interest to me what a male, particularly one like Joe, would pull out of a girl's closet. After all, I think it was someone sort of famous who once said: "If women dressed for men, the stores wouldn't sell much - just an occasional sun visor." And if a college guy had been doing the packing I'm pretty sure that's about all I'd have made out with.

Surprisingly Joe had actually thrown in a couple pairs of jeans, the gray work-out pants, a couple (spandex) tees with (deep) scoop necks, and a (tiny) tank top. Well, I guess men matured after all. At least I'd be covered enough for polite company.

I waited for the traffic jam in front of the bathroom to die off before I went up to change. Valerie wasn't home yet, but then it was only about 8 am. I wouldn't have been up either if I'd had a choice. And since her night had almost definitely been more fun than mine, she deserved it.

An hour after the girls had disappeared to school and Mr. Plum was gone to work, a taxi pulled up and deposited Valerie. I noted that some other mysterious means had also deposited the CR-V in the driveway.

Val dragged herself into the living room and collapsed next to me on the couch. I handed her the coffee I'd been sipping. She looked like she needed it more than I did.

Mrs. Plum pounced as soon as she caught sight of her. "Valerie! Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? Do you know what your sister did last night? And what about-"

"Mom, please, not so loud. My head is exploding," Valerie whimpered. "I'm sorry about the time, Derek stayed late from work and we had breakfast… but oh my god, I'm never drinking again…" She took a sip of the coffee and shot me a grateful smile. I grinned back at her. I knew exactly how she felt. Well, about the hang-over.

"Derek?" Mrs. Plum went on point.

"Derek Lawson. He and I went to school together. He just recently went through a divorce- his wife took off with her aerobics instructor."

I raised my eyebrows. Valerie caught it and smiled mysteriously. Mrs. Plum crossed herself. Grandma Mazur's face lit up.

"Hot damn! That was fast work!"

I cleared my throat and asked Valerie if she might be up for a little job hunting after she showered. "And a quick trip to the salon," I added in a whisper.

Valerie was up and gone like a shot. Nothing like the prospect of pampering to cure a hangover. Except maybe the thought of sleeping with Ranger, I reflected, remembering Lula's reaction the other morning.

I let Valerie choose the salon we would go to, and it wasn't half bad. It was a little on the conservative side, but not as nearly as prissy as I'd have guessed. I decided to go for a wax and a manicure to fix the damage I had done the night before. The manicurist clucked and scolded me about chewing them. I thought briefly about telling her why I had been chewing them, but decided against it. As fun as seeing her reaction might be, I didn't want her to screw up my pretty pink polish.

As for the wax job, I bit the bullet and went for the Brazilian. I didn't exactly plan on following through with the more risqué part of this book, but should the opportunist present himself I wasn't totally opposed to the idea. I never said I was a moralist. .

After Val and I were buffed, polished, waxed, trimmed, and otherwise glorified, I bought a tanning package and then we set on my next quest.

"Tanning, Steph? But you don't' need it! You're not exactly pale…" Val protested in the car. I looked down at my arms.

It was true. I had a healthy light tan going on, when the books always made a point about Stephanie's fair skin. It was another question to add to the one I kept having every time I looked in the mirror and saw the blond highlights in my hair that weren't Stephanie's. I had had Mr. Alexander put some in, true, but there had been some before he did that, and my hair had lightened further since then. The third question on that list of oddities dealt with Stephanie's body's rapidly increasing flexibility and resilience. By all rights I should have been totally immobile after my sessions with Mac but I'd had only the barest touch of soreness.

"I've been tanning," I said to Valerie as the list of questions once more scrolled through my mind. "I just want to keep it up."

"You shouldn't! That stuff gives you wrinkles, and you'll get skin cancer."

"I don't tan very often, Val. That's people who do it every day." _And I don't think I'll live long enough to worry about it_, I added silently.

Val looked like she would have liked to keep arguing, but she finally pursed her lips and remained quiet. After a minute of silence she relented. "So where are we going now?"

I grinned evilly. "Priscilla's."

"Oh my god! Stephanie Plum you are not taking me into that- that-" Valerie sputtered.

"Then stay in the car," I shrugged. I had looked up the address in the phone book and checked the map. I was pretty sure I knew how to get there. And I was damned if I was going to be caught without my black fuzzy cuffs.

Through gods, grace, and probably a minor miracle I managed to navigate my way to Priscilla's cursing New Jersey drivers, stupid East Coast traffic, and drunken city planners the whole way.

That's it. I was going to have to get damned good at bounty hunting or marry someone really frelling rich, because come hell or high water I needed a chauffer. Or so help me people might die. Mainly that psychotic idiot in the green Camry that nearly merged into my passenger side…

Anyway, we made it in one piece. I bounced out of the car and looked at Valerie expectantly. Sure enough, she got out, albeit with the air of someone about to face a firing squad. I laughed at her pinched expression, grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.

I felt like having some fun so instead of just making a bee-line for their cuffs section I made a detour to the Girls section and picked up a Lady Bug.

"What do you think Val? This or…" I picked up a Hello Kitty vibrator, "this, for your bachelorette party?" Val obliged my inner demon by turning ten shades of crimson.

"I—I-I…Put those down, Stephanie!" she gasped. "I can't even believe you…"

"Val," I laughed, rolling my eyes, "You are great. You're so 1950's square!"

I left her then to go hunting for the handcuffs. It didn't take more than five minutes to locate them and I had in my eager little hands a pair identical to the ones from my previous life- shiny metal with their black furry cushions to prevent any unpleasant chafing. I eyed a set of silk ropes and debated whether or not I would ever find anyone to play with. On the other hand… people broke into Steph's apartment all the time. Wouldn't it be amusing for them to be tied up in kinky sex stuff? I giggled at the thought. That would have to bruise a criminal's ego to be fully clothed and furry cuffed…

Nah. But I made a mental note of interest in my head: Need to try Silk Ropes. Went right next to Chocolate Sauce and Shower Sex.

Instead I grabbed a couple smaller items and made my way to the checkout. I wasn't all that surprised to find Valerie had beaten me back to the car. I was surprised to see that she had a Priscilla's bag half hidden behind her seat. My jaw actually dropped and my eyes widened in shock.

Valerie sniffed. "I'm not… square," she said haughtily. I smiled.

"Prove it. What did you buy?" Our eyes met and locked. Valerie was the first to look away and she pulled the bag out and hesitantly opened it so I could see inside.

I clapped a hand over my mouth in a vain effort to stifle the laughter. Valerie blushed and quickly tossed the bag in the back.

"Val! I'm so proud of you!" I gushed. _Hah, take that Janet! Maybe she isn't so prim and proper after all._ "Your very first Lady Bug!" I actually leaned across and hugged her.

Val smiled hesitantly. "You're so weird." I smirked and held up my own bag.

"You have no idea, dahling. Here…" I dug through the contents of mine and pulled out one of my secondary purchases- another set of furry cuffs, this one cheetah print. "These are for you. Use them well, sis," I said solemnly as I handed them over. Valerie stared, dumbstruck.

"Everyone has fuzzy cuffs," I told her. "_Everyone_."

"But I- never.. I mean I don't—"

"You do know," I interrupted. "You're holding a set!"

"What if you lose the keys?" she squeaked.

"Nah, these are just for play," I told her. "Look," I reached over and pushed a small lever near the chain, releasing the cuffs, "Keyless entry!" We both laughed, and Val grabbed my bag to investigate the rest of its contents, apparently forgetting her own prudishness.

"Oh. My. God. Stephanie!" she yelled, thrusting the bag back at me. "I can't believe you got that thing!"

I giggled. "Believe it, Lady Bug."

"Don't make me hurt you," she said, eyes narrowed.

"My lips are sealed. How about some coffee?"

"I'd love it," Val said happily. We took off, heading for a Starbuck's I had spied on our trip from the salon.

We had just sat down with our orders, and I barely had time to recover from my first heavenly sip of iced caramel mocaccino when my cell phone started singing 'Johnny Be Good' Gods I needed to get Stephanie some better ring tones… I checked the caller id and wondered idly if Bailey's would go well in a mocaccino as I flipped it open.

"Hey cupcake," Morelli's voice was warm. I felt a stab of guilt. Grrr…

"Please, I hate being called a snack food." He just laughed. It was a really sexy laugh, and that just made me feel that much more irritated.

"I figured you'd be calling me with questions this morning," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"That's okay. I can live without the gory details." _Seeing as I already know them._

"I need to talk to you. You're in the Starbucks on-"

"Are you stalking me?" I demanded.

"Eddie saw you and Valerie. I heard you were at Priscilla's too. Something I should know about, cupcake?" There was an edge in his voice now, not exactly accusing, more… ugh, dare I say it, but hurt? Again with the damned guilt. I hated feeling guilty.

"Nope. Just prepping for a proper re-bachelorette party." I heard him let out a long breath. Across from me, Valerie's eyes widened in horror. I shook my head and mouthed the word 'Joe'. She relaxed and began to look amused.

"I'll be there in five minutes." And he disconnected. I mentally calculated the odds of getting out of here unseen in five minutes or less. Not good. He probably had some undercover rookie or somebody tailing us. Or maybe I was just getting paranoid… then again, maybe Ranger wasn't the only one with a tracker on that CR-V. I made a mental note to ask if more than one GPS chip could go on one vehicle. I wasn't sure who I'd ask, but someone. Maybe Mac…

Crap. The dojo. I checked the time and breathed a sigh of relief. If I kept the talk with Morelli short and dropped Val at home, I'd make it.

"Well, he said he'd be here in five. Apparently we need to talk," I said resignedly to Valerie.

"Do you want me to make myself scarce?" she asked. I frowned and considered it. Soder's end was pretty gruesome. Val didn't handle gruesome well. Then again, judging from last night, I didn't either. But I could act.

"Yeah, Val. But time it, okay. Fifteen minutes max. Take my phone," I said, handing it over. Val looked at me sharply.

"You aren't- I mean you two, you aren't… with him anymore are you? I mean, not really?"

"No," I sighed. "He's a good guy, you know. It's just…" _he makes me feel guilty and horrible about not being who he thinks I am.. _."stuff," I finished lamely.

As Joe walked in, Valerie excused herself to go make a call. I had a suspicion the call wasn't to Grandma or Mrs. Plum. I was betting the recipient started with a D and ended with 'erek.' I waved Joe over and he slid into Val's empty chair. He looked tired and just a little rumpled around the edges. Damn, if Ranger could set off a SWAT trend, Joe could have re-started the rolled-out-of-bed look.

"Want coffee?" I asked him.

"No. I think I'm over my quota." A beat of silence as I took a sip of my heart-stoppingly sweet beverage, then… "Two guys dressed in costumes carrying duffel bags and balloons were seen entering the lobby and using the elevator…"

"What kind of costumes?"

"One was a rabbit one was a…" Joe frowned like it actually pained him to say it, "teletubby." I snorted into my drink. Well, at least it was a sociopath with a sense of humor .I'd hate to be up against someone humorless. "No faces showing," Morelli continued, looking a little irked. "We found the balloons in your closet. They took the duffel bags with them."

"Huh, must have been Abruzzi. He's the only guy weird enough."

"Can you prove that?"

I rolled my eyes. Yeah right. As if dear old Janet would let this be that easy. "No but there is a connection between Abruzzi and Soder. I'd be willing to bet money just who Soder's new partner's were in that bar of his. Right?"

Joe nodded. "Soder lost the bar to Abruzzi in a card game." _Always with the card games! Does no one lose things the good old fashioned bankers-and-contracts way?_ "Soder was playing with some high-stakes guys and needed-"

I tuned out the rest of the useless information. I really didn't care who or what Abruzzi owned. I cared about how to get Abruzzi dead. I didn't like the idea, and if I thought about it too much it was going to make me sick, but the law of the jungle _is_ written into our DNA, after all. And it was harder to be scared of the boogie man in the broad daylight with massive amounts of sugar and caffeine to insulate me from the real world.

"Did you pick up any prints in my apartment?" I asked, when I thought he was done with his explanation. I was genuinely interested in the answer to this one- after all, with the odd physical changes going on, who knew what was possible in this messed up situation?

"None that didn't belong there. With the exception of Ranger's." I tensed my leg muscles and wondered whether I'd hit him in the shins or somewhere more delicate.

"I work with Ranger," I reminded him, smiling.

"I know." He didn't sound happy about it. I pursed my lips and considered my next topic. I could push the Ranger issue, but that would just make him yell and he wouldn't listen anyway. I could say something about the case but I rather thought he might start yelling then too. Here we go with discretion and valor again.

I sipped my mocaccino and waited for him to do the talking. While I waited I looked at him. God he was gorgeous, and nice… and he meant well. He was just in love with someone who wasn't here. And it would be so easy to fall in love with him, to just waltz off into the sunset and pretend…

"There's a detail we're not releasing to the public," he said slowly. I sighed. Janet and her penchant for the melodramatic again.

"Soder's heart was ripped out," I guessed. Morelli just looked at me.

"I'd like to protect you," he said quietly. "I could chain you to my wrist or lock you in the closet-"

In the end, I knew there'd be no dancing off into the sunset with Joe. Even if I had really wanted it and it wasn't the stress of being the target of a schizo talking. Because as much as Stephanie wasn't a part of the 'Burg, I was less a part of it. I was completely alien, unfit for assimilation.

"I don't suggest either," I said with a smile. "They wouldn't work, and I'd just get cranky." Besides, I'd been to Joe's house. Those walls were thin- I could probably kick out the back of the closet; and as for the chaining to his wrist, he'd be cutting his own arm off after thirty minutes of my bitching beauty queen routine.

Joe gave me a look. "Or you could pack off for an extended vacation." But his tone said he knew that wouldn't fly either. I shook my head sadly.

"Sorry. But you know distance wouldn't' stop Abruzzi. And in the end, you chaining me to you would just make you a target too." I reached out hesitantly and touched his hand. "Thanks for being so great last night," I added.

Joe slouched back in his seat and sighed. "Against my better judgement, I love you." I winced, and became interested in the texture of my mocaccino. I knew this conversation. I didn't like it. _Maybe if I just didn't do anything…_ "Don't get all excited," he hurried on, "It doesn't mean I want a relationship."

My eyes flew up from the coffee in surprise… and relief. Thank god. But even though I wasn't Stephanie, even though I was just a stand-in that comment stung. He couldn't really be this… saying this… I licked my lips and took a deep breath before I said my line. "You could do worse," I said softly.

"With who? Lizzie Borden?" _Ouch. That hurt_. _And I wasn't even the one it was aimed at_. I pursed my lips and felt my leg twitch. _Just one kick.__ Just one swift kick… _

"You liar. You absolute fucking liar," I hissed, my eyes narrowing. The anger and rage were boiling up inside me. Everything I had wanted to say to Joe, to Ranger, to everyone in this whole stupid place, even things I wanted to say to my scum-sucking ex boyfriend were rising up. And I was just mad enough to let them loose.

Joe's eyes widened, and I took advantage of his moment of shock. "You don't love me. You don't love someone just when it's convenient. You don't deliberately hurt them – you don't say things like that. You don't manipulate them into being something they aren't.

"You are in love with an idea- the idea of the perfect Stephanie who lives in your head, and I am certainly not her. I never will be. And I won't try to be. You, Joseph Anthony Morelli," my voice was now carefully modulated to be a normal everyday conversation-level, "are never to say those words to me again. I don't believe them now and I never will." My eyes were cold, and so was my voice. I didn't care, I meant it. I never, ever wanted to hear another guy say he loved me. _I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow…_

Valerie poked her head in and waved. Fifteen minutes were up. I smiled, the anger melting back to wherever it was that it stayed. Most of it was vented out anyway.

"Well, I have to be going," I announced cheerfully, picking up my mochaccino and standing. Joe's face was becoming thunderous. "We can talk again later and I promise you can say everything you're wanting to say. But I'm late. So see you then!"

And I was off and gone. I had a self-defense class to get to, a seduction to avoid (or attempt to), and a tragic accident to design. I was going to have to get a PDA.

We were almost to the Plum residence when Val cleared her throat and looked at me cautiously. "Steph…"

"Yeah?"

"You said we'd start looking for Steve today…" Crap. I closed my eyes and thought my way through my day. There just wouldn't be time.

"Oh, Val, I'm so sorry… with the Soder case and him ending up dead on the couch-"

"No, it's okay. I mean, I know you're busy. It can wait…"

I bit my lip and looked at her. No, if it waited she would give up. We had to do something now… well, she had to do something, anyway…. An idea formed in my head. I looked Valerie over speculatively. Well, why not? It couldn't hurt. And it sort of fit in with my earlier evil scheme.

I pulled out my cell phone and a napkin from Starbucks. As soon as I parked in the driveway I scrolled through, found the number, and scribbled it onto the paper along with the name. "Here," I said, handing the napkin to Val. "Call him- Jack Ryan. He's going to be helping us. You can tell him about Steve and his business. Jack's a psychiatrist so he's good with the profiling. And I think he has some helpful connections to help track the worm too."

Valerie's face brightened. "Is he married?"

"Jack?" I asked, momentarily confused.

"No, Steve," she said, the sarcasm dripping. "Yes Jack!"

"Nope. He's single. In fact, most of the RangeMen guys seem to be single," I added the last.

"RangeMan… wait, he works for…"

"Yeah. And he's hot too."

Val was out of the car and in the house at a speed that was just short of breaking the sound barrier. I paused long enough for a moment of silence. Poor Jack, he might never forgive me. But you never know with these things.

Val and a Rangeman…

I got a picture of her on a date with Hector, at least as I'd seen him in my dream, and giggled all the way to the dojo.


	22. Chapter 23

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** Must I? Oh, fine. Janet made up the Plum Universe. Alyssa made herself up.

**Note:** Thank you to everyone! And to all of you who are wondering: the action will get kicked off next chapter and there are 3 more chapters (approximately) until the infamous cookie scene…

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"Hey, Mac." I walked up to the counter and leaned against it, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing on the computer. "Would you have time to take me out to the gun range again?"

Mac looked at me, his brown eyes concerned. "Sure, I had a client cancel this afternoon. Drop back by around three…" He paused, and searched my face for something. Signs of stress or an impending breakdown I suppose. If only he knew. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I bit my lip on the smart remark I was itching to make. "Yeah, I'm dealing…" He nodded, and I knew he'd caught the tremor in my voice. Damn him. Why did he have to be so, so… so perceptive? Why in hell couldn't the guys around here be the sweet, oblivious Neanderthals I was used to?

"You have my numbers, Steph. Remember, call me if you need anything." I shied away from thinking about the meaning of the emphasis he had put on 'anything.' He wasn't talking about sex. It might have been easier if he was. No, Mac was offering his help.

His protection.

I sighed as I followed him into the practice room. All the men in this life seemed to feel the urge to protect me. A trait that in an ordinary life was sweet, chivalric, and occasionally irritating. Here, I had the uncomfortable knowledge that it might be necessary. And since I didn't feel comfortable asking Ranger's help with Abruzzi- seeing as how I wasn't who he thought I was by any stretch of my imagination- maybe Mac's help wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Still didn't mean I'd take it if I could avoid it.

The session went fairly well- Mac could still kick my ass blindfolded but I was managing to work the moves we'd covered so far. By the end, I felt much more like my usual self. I was sort of holding my own, and I had just gotten the benefit of an hour of close contact with a particularly gorgeous male. What straight female wouldn't have just a little bit better outlook on life, the universe, and everything? Mac and I sat on the mats, taking long gulps of the ubiquitous bottled water, recuperating from the last round.

"Mac, do you ever thing the world's just going completely crazy?" I asked at last, my mind revolving back to my body-switching dilemma and then on to my Abruzzi dilemma. I was beginning to appreciate what Steph meant when she said once that she had so many dilemmas she couldn't remember them all. I really needed to get a PDA. Mac just quirked an eyebrow.

"It's always been like this, beautiful. You probably just don't get out enough." I laughed and tossed my empty bottle at him, then jumped up to head for the showers.

I showered in the locker room and pulled my hair up without giving it much more than a quick shot of gel before I headed back out to face the madness.

I waved to Mac, blowing him a kiss as I walked out the door. I glanced back in time to see him laugh and roll his eyes. I grinned and pulled Stephanie's sunglasses out of the tragedy of a Coach purse. I slid them on and felt much safer.

I was a gorgeous, talented, gifted badass-in-training. I was a bombshell bounty hunter. Screw Abruzzi. He wasn't gonna know what hit him. Mom always said the power of our thoughts is greater than we think. I was praying she was right.

I got in the car and pulled out my cell to dial the office when I noticed it was blinking. Ooh, goodie, voice mail! I flipped it open and dialed the mail box.

Les Sebring? Who the blazes… oh, yeah, the other bondsman. The semi-reputable, successful bondsman. He wanted me to stop by his office. I'd only missed the call by a few minutes so I took off. I'd seen his place- it wasn't that far from Vinnie's.

Ten minutes later I pulled into an empty parking space in Sebring's lot and headed in. His secretary actually took me up to the floor his office was located on, and into his actual, get this- private office. Vinnie could definitely have stood to take some business tips from this guy. Heck, Vinnie could take business tips from about anyone and come out more successful than he apparently was.

Mr. Sebring extended his hand and I took it, exchanged greetings, then I offered a hand to the woman sitting in a chair across from his desk. She was tall, fit, gorgeous… oh, so this was Jeanne Ellen. She really did look like Cat Woman. "Jeanne Ellen," I said, smiling.

Jeanne Ellen looked momentarily surprised, but shook my hand anyway. "Stephanie, you look… different."

I shrugged and laughed a little. She had no idea. I wondered when I would stop finding it amusing when people remarked on the difference in Steph. Probably not any time soon. I returned my attention to Sebring. Jeanne was gorgeous, and I could definitely see her and Ranger hooking up- I was itching to ask her about it. But I was working on my skills- I really was just a beginner- and there was no telling how good I might be after a while. Jeanne Ellen was the past and present, I was the future. And I didn't have the excess emotions to screw with envying her.

"You asked to meet with me, Mr. Sebring?" I asked politely.

"I have some information you might find useful," Jeanne Ellen said. I tilted my head, waiting. She looked at me closely for a moment before she began. "I'll be flying to Puerto Rico today to pick up an FTA for Les. I wanted to tell you about Soder before I left. For what it's worth, Soder claimed Annie was in danger,"_ And he was right, unfortunately… _"He never articulated that danger," _Starts with A, ends with bruzzi…_ "but he seemed to feel Evelyn was incapable of protecting his daughter," _Wouldn't give back the medal…._ "… I was never able to locate Annie, but I realize Dotty was the conduit, the weak link, so I guarded Dotty." I nodded as she finished.

"You're good," I told her. Jeanne Ellen did that unreadable look thing. "And thank you…" another thought occurred to me. "You wouldn't happen to know if his business partners knew anything about you looking for Annie? Specifically Abruzzi"

"No," Jeanne said. "But I had a feeling Abruzzi was tied into the threat against Annie." Huh, yep, you really are good. I should have you as Profesora Higgins. I smiled and glanced at Sebring.

"So you have no further interest in this case?"

"Not unless Soder comes back from the dead." I smirked. Nope, not without a heart- he wouldn't even make Vampire status.

"Cool," I said, in true college girl fashion. When nothing else seems safe to say, say that.

"I heard you found Soder sitting on your couch," Les grinned. Wow, his teeth were blinding. The man had a flash grenade in his mouth… "You know what that means."

"Yep," I chuckled. "Means I get a new couch."

I said goodbye after that and headed out in search of a better pastime. Sebring was weird. Jeanne Ellen was interesting. But I had too much other stuff to think about just now. Like how to eliminate a crime lord, or how to convince Batman not to seduce me even though I wanted him to…

I sat in the CR-V and pondered my next move. Let's see… Jeanne Ellen left so that meant that Dotty and co were camping…. At that place… grrr… names… I needed names! I slapped my forehead in a vain attempt to jog my memory. Think book, Alyssa. You can do this!

A campground… Washington… Washington's Ford? Washington's Delaware? No, no, no… Washington's… Crossing? Washington's Crossing? That was it! A campground on the way to Washington's Crossing. Oh yeah, I was awesome, I roared. Take that Cat Woman.

Now, I had some time to kill. I could go chasing after Dotty and co to the campground, except that Abruzzi's guys would already have been there, so that was useless. I could hang out at the dojo, which was appealing, but I was going to be spending the afternoon with Mac anyway, and I had enough large scary men in my life.

Huh, I never thought I would ever come to that conclusion. I've always been a 'more the merrier' kind of girl…. But with Mac, Ranger, Jack, and then Tank's random appearance, plus Morelli, and add Abysmal himself… nope. My dance card was full. Alas.

I sighed and flipped through the radio stations to give myself something to do. I could check in with Val and see how she and Jack were doing? Hm… that would be entertaining. I pulled out the cell phone and paused. I hadn't paid attention before now, but it was Sprint. I smiled, wondering at the multi-verse appeal of the corporation.

"hello?" Mrs. Plum answered the phone.

"Hey M-Mom," I scrunched at the word, feeling as if I was somehow betraying my own mom with it, "It's Stephanie. I was wondering if Val was at home?"

"No she left to go see some one." _Hmm… the girl moved fast_.

"Okay, well I have to-"

"What were you doing at the coffee shop this morning?" _Uh-oh._ "I've gotten four phone calls about it!" her voice was rising now. "After you left, Joseph stormed out! Marabella Scotti's daughter said he looked like he was going to shoot someone. Mrs. Lippinowski called… she said you told Joseph he didn't love you! What on earth were you thinking!"

The rant went on for a while. I tuned out and missed my mom. My mom, who would have told me she was proud of me, who would probably disown me if I became anything resembling a 'Burg wife. My mom, the militant feminist, who said you should never believe anything a man says- listen, nod your head, but never believe it.

"Well?" Demanded Mrs. Plum. "What do you have to say for yourself?" _You really, really don't want to know. _

I debated my answer and took a deep, calming breath. "What I have to say for myself is that it 's my life and it isn't anyone else's place to tell you about it. No, he doesn't love me. He loves who he thinks I am. What he thinks I am. Are you suggesting I change to suit him?"

"OF course I am! That's what you do, Stephanie. You change for him because you love him! You quit this dangerous job and you settle down to a normal life." Tears were stinging my eyes. I wanted my mom. I wanted my parents. I wanted a mom who actually _talked_ to me and a dad who did more than glance my way and grunt a greeting. Who didn't tell me ever, ever, ever, to get a _normal _life.

"Love is not love where it alteration makes," I quoted with as much Shakespearian dignity as I could and I flipped the phone shut, leaned my head onto the steering wheel and let myself cry. I didn't care if anyone saw. Fuck the Burg. I had had enough. Steeleville wasn't big, and everyone knew each other's business, but they didn't make phone calls about it.

Well, not to your parents, unless it involved a police car. I laughed through my tears, as memories of that particular misadventure flashed through my head. Good thing Chief had a sense of humor. And he liked _Varsity Blues_, too.

The cell phone was ringing. I looked at the LCD and groaned. 'Home'. I let it kick over to voice mail, then scrolled into the settings and reprogrammed a few entries in the phone book. From 'Home' to 'Casa Bruja' with a few taps of the keys. At least it made me feel better. Now, time to figure out what to do and then go shoot something.

Sadly my current plan for surviving this series of unfortunate events was to live with my gun and an extra box of ammo. They can't kidnap you if you shoot them first, right? This meant I was going to have to get very comfortable with that little Glock.

Thinking back to the book, I sort of wished I could just have a rocket launcher. That would make things easier- Find out where Abysmal was, launch a rocket, and in case that didn't kill him, set up somewhere with a clean shot at the exit and nail him with a bullet as he came out.

Too bad I couldn't figure out a way to do that and get away with it. Stuff like that only works in action movies. I'm not sure about the rules for books. So that was out. I guess I'd have to be stealthy. I hate stealthy.

Well, I had a little time before I had to worry about stealth. I pulled out of the lot and started driving. There was a place that looked like it might have smoothies somewhere between Vinnie's and the apartment. I needed a smoothie.

I also needed to have paid more attention to military strategy. I sucked at Risk. And since Napoleon Blowhard was all obsessed with strategy, it would have been highly convenient if I could operate on the same sort of board. As it was I was on an entirely different board, playing a different game, in another room. Grrr.

The ice cream place did indeed have smoothies, and it was decked out like an old-fashioned drug store soda fountain to boot. I was in love. One sip of my strawberry-peach-banana smoothie with the orange twist and I was rapturously in love.

With smoothies this good, the world couldn't possibly be all that bad. My faith in the universe semi-restored, I pulled out the folder with my List and started brainstorming ideas for how to end this escapade without me being kidnapped, Valerie being kidnapped, or me getting my arm branded.

I had been around when Dad and the ranch hands did the branding. I had no intentions of letting that happen to me. I didn't even really want a tattoo.

Time passed more quickly than I would have thought possible, so I was shortly on my way back to the dojo to go play shoot-em-up with Mac. When I got there, he was waiting for me in the front. He tossed the dojo keys to his assistant, a younger guy named Kevin who I couldn't convince to say more than two words to me, and guided me around back to his car.

I didn't complain or ask that we take mine. I preferred his driving. I guess I was smiling a little too much, because halfway to the range, Mac finally glanced over at me and shook his head.

"Most girls are terrified to get in a car with me," he remarked.

"I like your driving."

"You're not scared?" his grin was dangerous. _Uh-oh._

I smiled and shook my head. "No." Okay, so I definitely felt the edge of danger and my adrenaline was up, but was I actually scared? Not really.

"Huh," Mac said, and we promptly sped up. I was shoved further back into my seat and settled in for the ride, my hand gripping the edge of the console and tightening steadily as he began weaving through ever shrinking holes. Multi-lane merging… slipping in between tractor trailers… I took in a startled breath as we narrowly avoided a black Dodge Ram.

"Okay," I squeaked, suddenly very glad I hadn't told him about my mom. "Okay, I'm nervous now…"

"Just nervous?" Mac laughed.

I bit my lip. If I lived through this I was going to kill him. No, no, can't kill him. I kind of needed him. Damn it. Well a swift kick in the shins then…


	23. Chapter 24

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 24

Note: Thank you to everyone for all you help, feedback, and support. Y'all rawk.

Disclaimer: Nope, still not my characters. Not entirely my plot lines either.

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We were the only ones at the gun range again. In fact, we'd been the only ones last time. Seeing as this was the East Coast, land of mobsters, road rage, and angry bitter people- you would think that it would be more popular than this. Unless of course this was a private kind of club. I pondered that. Ten bucks says the deed to this place had the name Manoso somewhere on it. Or MacLeod.

Oh yes, Mac was loaded. He didn't flaunt it, but I knew- it was in the way he talked, the manicure on his hands, and the cut of his clothes. The car went with it, but I would bet ten more bucks that there was a garage somwhere containing a much more expensive ride. Now the question I had about him, and Ranger, was where did the money come from? They got along too well in the ghetto to be born to it. And the military doesn't pay _that_ well. It made them interesting, though, so I wasn't complaining. Interesting is good. It's fun. It keeps me from thinking about my possible imminent demise…

"Stephanie!" I blinked and came out of my reverie. I lowered the Glock to turn to Mac, wondering what the yell was about. "You aren't concentrating!" he sighed. I looked back at the target. Oops.

I pursed my lips as I saw where the bullet holes _weren't_. I had totally missed my last two shots. Well, I guessed that would teachme to think about the histories of my fellow castmates instead of paying attention to what I was blasting holes into.

"Umm, I have to go to the girls' room!" I said quickly, with what I hoped was a cute shrug. I handed the gun to Mac and took off. It was actually true. Hey, a girl's gotta do and all that.

After concluding my business with mother nature I walked back down the short hall way and was about to turn and walk into the range itself when I heard the voices. Voices? Great, I really was loopy.

"God is that you?" I whispered under my breath looking around cautiously. I always figured in this situation that is probably the best you can hope for, that you're speaking to some sort of benevolent higher power. Otherwise you and people around you just might be screwed…

"…the hell were you doing?" demanded a quiet deadly voice from inside the range. I stared at the door for a second, waiting for my own heartbeat to die down and lower my blood pressure a little. Okay, two guys… how had that happened? I'd only left one in there and they normally didn't multiply that fast. Hey! Just a sec, that voice was familiar! And it wasn't the voice of a god, either. Well, it was a Cuban Sex God's, but that's sort of a different animal. Now fully intrigued, I crept closer for better eavesdropping abilities.

"Just havin' a bit of fun, Ricco," Mac chuckled. His accent was a little more pronounced, I wondered what that meant- Ricco? Ack. I bit my lip to stifle a giggle. Add that to my list of things to call Ranger. Probably he'd kill me, but it wasn't any worse than the other names on that list in my head. And they were all worth it. Just to see the look on his face.

Ranger said something I couldn't make out.

"What's it to you? Or is this about the cargo?" A few beats of silence passed after that, or if something was said, I couldn't hear it.

A bark of laughter that was definitely Mac's. "Sorry buddy. I promise I won't be nicking your precious _truck_."

I blinked and shook my head to clear it. I took it back, these guys were the Neanderthals of my home- they were just a couple steps closer to making it over the hump. I had the unhappy thought that I had missed something somewhere.

Anyway, time to make my entrance I decided. I straightened my top, and reached up to adjust my ponytail as I walked in. "Sorry it took so long, Mac. I had to redo my-" I let my eyes widen and my hands drop to my sides but I my smile was genuine. "Hey, Ranger! What brings you here?"

Ranger inclined his head by way of greeting and glanced pointedly at Mac. "Just checking in." Uh-huh. _Gotta__ save your darlin' truck's paint job…_

"Cool," I smiled a bright, cheery Ms. America smile. "Mac's helping me get used to my gun."

"Not that she needs much help," Mac put in. I tensed a little. Guh, of all the GI Urban Joes I get the one talkative one… "She's learning quick."

Ranger's eyebrow was lifted. "What happened to keeping the gun in the cookie jar?"

"Haven't you heard? I have an evil Teletubby with delusions of grandeur after me. And his funky costumed minions. I think it's officially time to learn about hunting safety and all that."

Ranger was impassive. I shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Mac.

"We're almost finished anyway. Here," he said, tossing me my last round… no not round… canister? Huh, well, I was still working on the terminology. I figured the important bit was that I know where all the thingys went in what order and how to make sure they went into the bad guy. I'd be fine as long as there wasn't a vocabulary test.

I loaded the gun and took my stance. Mac loaded up the new target, gave me the ok, and I fired. Did I mention that satisfactory feeling of seeing holes appearing where you want them to? Oh yeah, totally great. Very therapeutic.

I emptied my clip (see, I might remember them eventually), lowered my weapon, and turned to defer to the Jedi Masters. Heh, my weapon. That's sooo awesome.

"Not bad," Ranger said with that suggestion of a nod he does. I grinned at him, all cheek. Yeah, I wasn't a sharp shooter, but I figure for my second time out, getting in the vicinity of the chest and a couple to the head was pretty good.

"Make sure to keep your footing, and your amrs-" Mac's instructions were cut short by the Midnight Sonata. He swore and disappeared with his cell phone. I watched him go and sighed. Neanderthals with cell phones.

Ranger's silence was feeling a little forced. I turned to him expectantly. I usually got this vibe off Grandpa whenever mom started talking about crystals and ley lines. Of course, I knew what Grandpa was itching to say, 'Bullshit' being the prime candidate, but with Ranger and guns? I had no idea. I didn't see how 'bullshit' would apply.

Mac walked back into the room looked frustrated. "Steph, I'm sorry, I have to get back. Ric, could you give her a ride?" I opened my mouth prepared to be indignant, but Mac's hand resting lightly on my shoulder shut me up. "Sorry, gorgeous, but no way are you going with."

Oh. Never mind then. Happy trails, Mac. I do not want to know.

"Sure. Need any back-up?" Ranger was back in normal Ranger-mode. Whew.

"Already en route, thanks man." And he was gone.

Those guys could make the shortest, most abrupt exits of anyone I had ever met. Then again, coming from the Midwest, land where leave-taking generally takes longer than the actual conversation, maybe they weren't as bad as they seemed.

"Ready to go, Babe?"

"Yeah," I said, as I finished securing the Glock back into the holster.

We walked out to the truck quietly and I was mildly shocked when Ranger actually opened the door for me. I still had the squicky feeling he wasn't saying something, but as he steered the truck out onto the road, I prepared myself for a long feeling of squickiness. I knew he wasn't going to talk while driving.

Nope, instead he stopped at a truck stop-type place. The type of place best avoided unless you weigh 300 lbs, carry a large gun, and are named Bubba. It had to be the Shorty's of legend.

Yep, sure enough, there was a half burned-out neon sign with that very name. My gun belt had come off a few minutes before, now I slid it out of sight under the seat. "Ranger?" I asked, curious, and just a little worried. "Why are we stopping?"

"Dinner babe. Figured you'd be hungry."

"It's that ESP kicking in again, right Batman?" I laughed. I wasn't actually hungry, but I knew Stephanie would have been. Ranger got out and I paused, suddenly more than just a little worried. More nervous. Okay, past nervous. Slightly panicked. We had places like this around home. Shorty's wasn't that alien. Maybe that's why it was so scary… I knew what could happen here.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I jumped out of the cab and walked in with Ranger, sticking close to him. I didn't particularly care what Stephanie would have done, that's what I was doing. If she had any sense she'd always done exactly the same.

We got a booth in the back, in the corner. Just the Ranger liked it. As always. Hm, okay, definitely good to be with Ranger in here then. Maybe he owned part of it or something. However he managed it, he also got a waitress in record time. But that probably had more to do with his status as Cuban Sex God.

He ordered something, I didn't pay attention to what. I was trying to make a split second decision. Go the Stephanie route with lots of toppings or…

"Small, single serve cheese pizza," I heard myself ordering, "and a Coke, please?" I gave myself a mental head slap. Being tired was no excuse for that. Ranger was frowning now.

"You feelin' okay, Babe?"

"Just… tired," I said, with an apologetic smile. "Really tired. I feel like I was out there forever." Ranger sat back in his seat and said nothing. Ugh, the squickiness was back. Please, oh please, just spit it out, Ranger. I'm begging you, just say it…

"You could have asked me," he said at last. I coughed and was momentarily distracted as the waitress showed up with our drinks. Beer and a Coke? Ranger drinking a beer? Eek.

I smiled gratefully at the waitress, and I guess I must have looked worse than I thought because I got a sympathetic look followed by a wary glance toward my companion before she disappeared again.

Ranger sighed. I bit my lip and shrugged. For extra time I took a sip of my Coke. What was I going to say? Sorry, I'm scared of ending up permanently in your debt and spending life as a sexual slave? Or maybe something about how seeing as how I am not really the girl he thinks I am… nope, I didn't think so.

"I'm sorry," my voice was quieter than I'd meant it to be. And there was more guilt in it… "But I know you're busy. You have a business and stuff, you probably don't have the time to teach me stuff I should know anyway. And I really don't want to impose on you anymore than I already have." Oh yes, let's hear it for Grandma's manners lessons getting drilled into my skull! "I feel I would be taking advantage of you." Ranger choked on his drink. Oops, maybe I should learn to stop myself a little sooner.

"Advantage?" he shook his head a little. Aw, hell, might as well plod through with this tactic.

"I have haven't I?" I sighed mournfully and looked down into my Coke. "I truly am sorry." There was a long silence. But at least the heavy feeling of words unsaid was gone. Instead I had the feeling I might have shocked Ranger. Luckily the pizza came and I dove into mine with a vengeance. All I'd had to eat was the smoothie, and I was a lot hungrier than I'd thought.

When the only thing left was the crust I settled back, content to sip my Coke and wait for further instructions. Ranger was still quiet, but since he was Ranger, I figured maybe it wasn't all that serious.

"Come on, let's get you home." Oh, Crap. Home. La Bruja.

"Umm, about that," I said as Ranger pulled me to my feet and we started out the door.

Ranger smiled. "What happened?"

"Well, I went out shopping this morning with Valerie and I got a call from Morelli, I guess he'd been having us followed- by the way, sometime remind me to ask you how to figure out you've got a tail- and anyway he showed up to talk to me."

"And that's why you don't want to go home?" Ranger urged as we climbed into the truck.

"No. No, well, yes," I sighed. "Ugh, well, since the whole stupid 'Burg probably knows, you might as well, cause you'd probably hear it eventually anyway… Joe was being a brat and he…" I stopped as the words from the morning replayed in my head. Deep breath, Alyssa. No, no tearing up. No crying in front of Ranger, you've done enough of that crap for a while…

"He was just really mean about… stuff. And it hurt. So I told him off and left."

Ranger turned to me, the uncertain light of the ancient neon and the shifting headlights casting his features into eerie, changing contrasts. "He's a good guy. He loves you."

He might as well have punched me straight in the chest. The air rushed out of me and the lump in my throat caught. I forced a half laugh, and ignored the warm tears trailing down my cheeks. It wasn't his fault, I reminded myself forcibly.

He had his lines. I sort of had mine. At least I had this one. Stephanie was supposed to say: 'And you?" And then he would smile mysteriously so I'd get out and walk into the house, confused. Except that we weren't in front of the house, so I couldn't get out. Except that I wasn't Stephanie. Except that, well, except for a million other exceptions. Too bad I couldn't think of anything better to say…

Yes I could. Ranger was a friend of Stephanie's, even before he became a possible love interest. So they didn't confide in each other- no one in this idiotic place seemed to. Hell, she had a best friend she didn't talk to. Apparently in Jersey this is an honorary position. However, I'd always wondered what would happen if she actually opened up and talked to him a little more. That's it. Think of it as an experiment. Deep breath. Break out the Bunsen burners and attack the bridge…

"Ranger," I shook my head, "you can't know that. So don't try to tell me. Especially when I know for a fact he doesn't."

"Stephanie, he does," Ranger said very quietly. My hands curled into fists. If I'd had a clear shot, Ranger would have had a fractured shin and a black eye. Well, okay, more likely, I'd have had a fractured wrist, but it was nice to fantasize. I clamped my jaw shut to stifle the urge to yell 'I'm not Stephanie!'

When I could trust my own voice again, I used it.

"Joseph Morelli loves what might have been," I said evenly and with surprisingly little heat. _That was a good way to phrase it._ "But that might have been is gone. I can't be the person he's in love with." _And I'd probably kill myself within a week, anyway._ "So could you take me to a hotel, please, Ranger? Because Mr-Mom," I choked the word out, "doesn't seem to understand either. She's royally pissed I told Morelli to go to hell."

Ranger's hand caught my wrist. "Babe," he said gently.

"Don't," I said, moving away, edging up against the passenger door of the truck. "I'm stressed, I'm tired, and-"

"You're crying." Huh? Oh yeah, I was. Damn. I hadn't meant to do that.

"It's been a long day," I said, wiping away a tear. Stupid tear ducts. What was with me? I hadn't cried this much since mom and dad divorced ten years ago. Then I'd spent a month crying at the drop of a hat and having nosebleeds. I sniffled a little and touched my nose at the memory. God those had sucked, and they'd scared Dad to no-

A car turned into the lot, the headlights illuminating the cab for a moment and I turned my head, dazzled for a moment. A flash of red caught my attention just as the familiar coppery taste hit my lips. My hand wasn't wet with just tears.

I barely heard Ranger's sharp intake of breath, I was transfixed by the trail of blood on my skin. "Christ!" he swore, and his hand was on my chin, turning me to face him. On reflex I put my other hand up to cover my face and tilted my head back just a little.

"What's going on?" he asked, sounding a little strained. _Hell if I know. _

"Nothing," I said quickly. "It's just the stress."

Ranger shook his head and let out a long breath. "Babe." I smiled tentatively. I got the feeling that one syllable contained a paragraph of information. Too bad it was written in Male. _And me without my decoder ring_. "Glove box. There's some first aid stuff."

"Thanks," I said and just about dove for the latch. Inside there was indeed a first aid kit and a packet of tissues. I pulled out a couple and tried to get the mess stopped.

"Look, I used to get nosebleeds all the time when I was younger, whenever I was stressed or under pressure." _So what if that was in another body?_ "I guess it's all just getting to me a little worse than I thought."

A few beats of silence. "You shouldn't stay in a hotel. Too exposed."

"I have my gun," I sighed. I sounded funky with my nose stopped up. It actually sounded more like 'I hab by gud'

"You should stay with your parents. Talk it over with your mom. She's just worried."

Huh, yeah. Sounded real worried on the phone. Worried about the cost I was having on her social status. Ah well, I suppose he was right. Better just appease the natives.

"Stop being right all the time," I told him, removing the Kleenex from my nose to make sure he heard me. He grinned and put the truck in gear.

Yipes, that was a freaking gorgeous smile. I could handle Helen/Ellen for that.


	24. Chapter 25

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 25**

_Note:_ Okay, so I realized she left her car at the dojo after I wrote this, and I'm too lazy to go back and fix it. If Janet can rename characters and kill them off more than once, I'm allowed. Lol. Sorry it took so long to update here, guys. Real life can get really in the way of fun stuff. Sigh.

_Disclaimer:_ Ranger still belongs to Janet despite my best efforts to kidnap him. So does everyone else, except for Mac who technically belongs to someone else altogether, and maybe Jack who is sort of mine although he has a famous name, and Alyssa who I am not willing to claim b/c I don't want her running around my imagination any longer than necessary.

**0000000000000000000000000000**

No one was up when Ranger dropped me off, but the door wasn't locked so I let myself in and crawled onto the couch to sleep away my sorrows. The kiss Ranger had laid on me before I got out of the truck helped a lot with that, though. I could still feel his lips pressing against mine, and the back of my neck where his hand had rested was still warm. Yeesh. I wouldn't survive an entire night.

I woke up late the next morning, having passed out at some completely atrocious hour, and I'd been so deep in REM I'd even missed the daily live walk-though of Jerry Springer that was the morning bathroom rush. Now the house was quiet and I could hear Mrs. Plum and Grandma moving around upstairs. It sounded like they were arguing about something. Maybe if I was very quiet and didn't make any sudden moves they wouldn't notice I was gone until it was too late…

I grabbed the duffle bag, figuring I could change somewhere else, and started creeping toward the door. I opened it quickly and nearly screamed as someone's head popped into view. I had already stumbled back a step before I realized I was looking at a little old lady.

Mabel, it had to be. I opened the door and let her in.

"I just heard from Evelyn," she said. Yep, hello Mabel. "She's fine; staying with a friend, and she said not to worry." Her hand rested on her heart. "I feel so much better. And I felt better knowing you were looking for her. It gave me piece of mind. Thank you."

_It gave me a Napoleonic sociopath. No thank you. _

"Any time," I said smiling. _One must respect one's elders_. "Did she say where she was or who she was with?"

"No, she sounded rushed. There was a lot of background noise, like she was calling from a restaurant or store… why? There isn't anything wrong is there?" she asked, looking worried again.

"Nah, I just need to ask her about her landlord." _The homicidal maniac…_

"Oh," Mabel brightened. "Are you looking for a house?" _Not from him._

"Maybe."

There was a message on my phone from Eddie the Cop, saying that the cleaning crew would be done with the apartment at noon and remarking that Joe was being an ass. I guessed he was still grumpy, and decided that I would probably be better off avoiding him for a good six to eight years. Eh, might as well go to the office and see if there was anything more appealing than Bender to catch.

"What's new?" I asked Connie as I walked in the door.

"Nada." She shrugged. "What about Bender?"

"He's all Vinnie's."

"Vinnie don't want him," Lula chimed in.

"It's not that!" Vinnie yelled from his office. "I got important things to do." I flinched as my evil imagination flashed me pictures of a duck pond.

"He's gotta slap his Johnson around," Lula said. Guh. I think that might have been worse.

"Fine, I guess we better go after the idiot," I sighed.

"Vinnie? He's right in there," Connie said absently, staring at something on her computer screen. I laughed.

"No, Bender."

"Oh. That one."

"Anybody got handcuffs?" I asked the room in general.

"What the hell?" Vinnie's poked his head out of his office. "Do you think they grow on trees? Improvise!" And the door slammed shut again.

"Wanna come with, Lula?" She looked ready to bolt. Hm, bribery… "I'll buy lunch."

"Let me get my purse."

"Right, I have to change anyway," I said walking around Connie's desk to the rest room. "Be right out."

I was just pulling the other spandex-y t-shirt on when Lula's voice drifted through the door. "Hey, check out that car that stopped by Steph's car! Look, it's the red Teletubby and a bear's driving…"

_Shit. Merde. Sheit_. I buttoned the jeans and dashed out of the bathroom in time to see the CR-V jump into the air and erupt into flames with a deafening boom.

"Holy shit!" Vinnie yelled as he ran out of his office. I sighed and looked over as he came skidding to a stop beside me to stare at the fireball formerly known as a CR-V.

"Steph's car just got firebombed by a Teletubby."

"I hate it when that happens," I said, looking back mournfully at the fireball. It hadn't been so bad for a suv, really. Vinnie nodded and went back into the office.

We girls wandered on outside as assorted squad cars and EMT's came barreling onto the scene.

"Anyone hurt?" asked a cop who had emerged from one of the squad cars. He looked a little like the guy who'd given me a ride home after the spiders.

"Nope."

"Good, then I can enjoy this," he grinned. "I missed the spiders and the guy on the couch."

A larger cop joined the other one. "Way to go Steph. About time you destroyed another one."

"It's been months," the first said, nodding in agreement.

"I live to serve," I said sweetly. Remember I said something about cops spending too much time with people? Gives them a weird sense of humor. They couldn't help it. I was about to say something more when I caught sight of Morelli getting out of a truck parked by one of the fire trucks. I turned to Lula.

"Let's go," I said, ignoring the fact that my own voice wasn't so steady and the amused looks on the cops' faces. They had to know all the lurid details anyway. No time to worry about that now. I'd worry about it tomorrow.

"You ain't got cuffs."

"I'll improvise. Let's just go." I had a stun gun and I still had my Glock, in its little gun belt thing, strapped to my hip. I was in the mood for shooting. No one ever said you couldn't shoot Bender in a non-fatal way, right?

Morelli was on the other side of the crime scene so I hurried Lula into her red Trans-Am. We were gone before he was halfway across the lot. It was a good thing, because I know people get upset if you shoot a cop. And kicking his ass probably wouldn't have gone over so well either.

We pulled up in front of Bender's house and stood looking at it. Trepidation; that was a good word for it. We were full of trepidation.

"Should I call in and see if anyone's home?" I asked.

"I think we should just leave. Bender's got a shoe in with God. Don't do to go foolin' around in God's business. He sent a Teletubby to bomb your car."

"God had nothing to do with that. Eddie Abruzzi just recognizes the inherent evil in those creatures."

"Well I ain't doing it. I ain't going near that house. And once we drop his ass at the station I'm getting one of those gallon-size margaritas at Chevy's…"

I sighed and shook my head. "Wait here. I'm going to go and knock and ask him nicely to come along. And If he doesn't I'm going to kick his ass. Or shoot him in the leg. I'll work that part out later." And I set off across the lawn.

"What about me?" Lula called.

"Stay there!" I yelled back. I was already at the door. I pounded on it and stood off to the side, keeping my hand close to my gun. It was lose in the holster and ready for drawing. The idea of making loud noises and putting nice big holes in things was very, dangerously appealing just then. I hoped Bender wouldn't do anything stupid. I kind of wanted Abruzzi to be the first, last, and only person I had to kill.

I shouldn't have worried. I'd lost my place in the book again.

Bender's wife opened the door and peered out. "Andy's sick."

I blinked at her, dumbfounded. Oh, this was the book… and he was… ew. Okay. Never mind. I turned and left.

Lula met me halfway across the yard. "What's wrong? I—"

There was a resounding crash as Bender's front door swung open. Andy Bender himself lurched out of the house toward us. Lula and I recoiled, instantly horrified. He was the walking dead. Stained khaki work pants and an ancient flannel top gave him the air of someone who'd just climbed out of a freshly dug grave. His hair was a gnarled mess, and his eyes were half closed as he moved down the walk with the jerky, slurring movements of B-movie zombies and the intensely drunk.

"Wait! I'm dying!" he moaned, the words guttural and horrific in their unhuman quality. "Cuff me!" he demanded as he shuffled closer, holding out stained, grubby hands with ragged nails.

My eyes met Lula's and we had an instant accord.

Safely back in the Trans Am, zooming down the street and back to the land of the living, I finally regained the power of speech. "I think you were right about Bender. Except I don't think it was God. I think you had the wrong side pegged for that one."

"You're right," Lula said. "That was Village of the Damned or some shit."

"Lula… did you say something about gallon-size margaritas?"

"Chevy's, Yeah, that's a good idea. The alcohol'll get rid of any germs we might have picked up."

I thought about this for a second. "Do they have strawberry daiquiris?"

"Oh hell yeah. They make a killer daiquiri!"

Sure, I know, I've been going out almost every single night, right? And it's really irresponsible what with me getting chased by killer teletubbies. And that would probably be right. But ask me now, do I care? Do I care really? I mean in the bigger picture does it matter? Maybe I'm just a new breed of schizophrenic. Maybe I'd just been infected with a killer flu virus.

Nah, all that matters is that huge daiquiri sitting in Chevy's calling out my name in a siren song of sweet alcoholic strawberry goodness. 'Alyssa,' it says, 'Alyssa, you deserve me! You will love me! Come, eat drink and be merry!' And I finish the quotation with a cheerful, 'For tomorrow we may all be dead!'

And how do you argue with a point like that?

So yes, I went with Lula to Chevy's because the alcohol would cleanse us of any dastardly germs, and because the strawberry daiquiri told me to. Hey, I figure, if I'm crazy and having paranoid delusions, they might as well feature happy talking drinks.

It was almost midnight when Lula dropped me off out front of the Plum Circus. I climbed out of the Firebird and promptly landed on my butt as I tripped over the curb. Damned but I did a lot of falling when I was drunk…

I giggled and flopped onto my side. "I'm fine," I laughed. "I think I'll stay here tonight. It's grass. Grass is soft. And natural."

The boot that came into my line of sight wasn't. It was black and shiny. I blinked at it. "Combat Boots in Suburbia… hey, that would make a good band name…" A large pair of hands settled around my waist and pulled me to my feet.

Ranger was looking very Rambo… or maybe more Denzel in movies where Denzel kills people and finds it invigorating. Except for the Rambo hair.

"You can go," he said to Lula. I heard squealing tires but my senses had had enough quick motions and I decided it was safer on some levels to remain looking up at Ranger. Of course on other levels it would have been better to look at the moving car and get sick, because I was drunk and being drunk and looking at Ranger made me think bad thoughts.

"I thought only SEALs got to have long hair," my mouth said. I really wished it would consult my brain before it spoke. Ranger's head moved a millimeter to the side.

"I heard about your car."

"I always knew Teletubbies were evil. Not as evil as Veggie Tales, but down there somewhere in that vicinity." He still had a hold of my waist. "I'm not drunk. I only had…" ack. Grr. Numbers! Number the stars, number my drinks… "a daiquiri." He loosened his hold, "or maybe two," his grip tightened again, "and sex on the beach. The sex on the beach wasn't very good, though," I sighed, feeling disappointed just thinking about it.

Ranger smirked. "Sorry to hear it, Babe." I laughed, but unfortunately I was at that point where laughing can cause loss of balance so I ended up leaning against him for support.

"You are not," I said into his shoulder. "So what brings Rambo to the 'Burbs?"

"Needed to talk to you," he said, putting his arms around me. "I checked up on Dotty, got a few names. I tried calling but your phone was off." Aw, he'd been worried.

"I left the phone in the car," I explained. "Drinking and cell phones don't mix. I might get bored and call someone and talk about Smurfs. Like, why is there only one girl Smurf?" I yawned. "You give good hugs… do we need to find people now?" Mmm, and he smelled good too.

Ranger was laughing quietly. "No. Tomorrow. I'll pick you up at eight."

"If you pick me up before nine you aren't going to survive the experience."

"I'll risk it."

I giggled. "Your life. I'll spare it if you can answer my question, though. Why IS there only one girl smurf?"

"Because one is enough."

Huh, I'd never thought about it like that. And he'd just answered the question of drunken college kids everywhere in four words. "Wow, you rock," I told him earnestly and hugged him.

"Come on, Babe, time for bed."

"With you? I think I'm too drunk for that."

Ranger sighed.


	25. Chapter 26

**Surviving Stephanie Chapter 26**

_Note:_ If you never want to see a man again say, 'I love you, I want to marry you, I want to have children'. They leave skid marks." And there is your random quote of the day.

_Disclaimer:_ … the daiquiri made us do it.

**000000000000000000000000000**

I woke up at 5:30 am to a feeling of intense nausea. Since the Plum Circus did not come equipped with a friendly Mr. Bucket for these troublesome mornings after I was forced to run upstairs. When my stomach was finished with the spring cleaning, I jumped in the shower and went back downstairs to sleep the rest of the week.

Val appeared when I was halfway down the stairs. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just had a little too much rum last night."

"Mom's really upset." _And I was expected to care because…?_

"I know. I'll worry about it tomorrow," I drawled. "I'm going back to sleep now."

A hand on my shoulder woke me up from a pleasant dream involving Captain Jack Sparrow. "Parley?" I said quickly.

"Wake up, Babe," Ranger's voice was warm with amusement. "Time to go."

I frowned and opened my eyes to glare at him. "I have to get dressed… and go where?"

"I told you I'd be here at eight." Oh yeah, vague memory surfacing…

"Sorry. Okay, let me go get fully dressed and combed."

"You have ten minutes."

Sure enough, ten minutes later we were on our way. I had no make-up on, my eyes were red, I had a small nagging headache and I probably owed my life to whoever invented sunglasses. But other than that it wasn't so bad. Neither was Ranger's car. It was a black Mercedes with creamy leather interior. If I had to be running around with the hangover from hell, this was definitely a good way to do it. And there was even a McD's bag sitting in the front seat.

I slid in and glanced at Ranger, trying to picture him at McDonald's drive through. My imagination came back with an error message. _Does Not Compute.Error 666. Please reboot Universe.exe and try again._"Wow."

He smiled. "Eat your fries."

"Thanks, Ranger. You're the best." I smiled, leaned across the console to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, but he turned at the last second and it ended up a kiss on the lips- nothing quick about it. His lips brushed mine once, again, and I gently nipped his lower lip and pulled away. No, I wasn't being a tease- have you ever tried to lean across a console and gear shift and maintain a hot, burning, passionate kiss? Voice of experience talking, end it quick and relocate to the backseat or you're just asking for problems.

"Babe," Ranger's voice was rough and deeper than usual. I smiled and turned my attention to the French fries at hand. I munched on a few and stayed quiet. I didn't want to go through this though. It was pointless. I could have been home sleeping. But no, I was stuck doing this goose chase. Grrr.

Several minutes and miles later, I decided some speaking might be good. "Thanks for doing this, Ranger." _Yes, thanks but no thanks. We aren't going to find anything. Let's go home and let Alyssa sleep._ "It's really nice of you to help out the little girl."

"I'm not doing this for her. This is about your safety…" I tuned out the rest of the uncharacteristic Ranger Speechifying. He was worried. It was sweet. I wanted sleep. There just wasn't enough caffeine in Coca-Cola.

"But could you keep her safe if we find her?" I asked, stifling a yawn.

"Keeping you safe is more difficult… Nothing-"

"Short of locking me up in the Bat Cave?" I finished, bored with the favorite lines from the book popping up. "Thanks but no thanks. I've never been good with caves."

Ranger shook his head.

As I predicted, we didn't get much. They'd stayed with one of the friends, someone with the unfortunate name of Barbara Ann, and I got the Beach Boys stuck in my head the moment her name was mentioned. The only interesting thing was when we drove into New Brunswick, which turned out to be a college town.

Hey, I knew this scene! Kind of. Of course, I wasn't really worried about the scene. Seeing the college campuses and the people my age wandering around gave me a twinge. Homesickness. New Brunswick was a major college town, with two universities and all the accompanying things: cyber cafes, clubs, bars, taverns, shopping, pubs, street lights, bars… It was lovely, prosaic, and it felt safe and inviting. Tree-lined avenues, a few cobblestone streets could be seen jutting off from the main drag.

"Hey, Ranger, where did you go to college?"

"Rutgers, Newark. Joined the army after two years."

I turned to look at him, curious suddenly. I had lots of guy friends who'd done the same, and even more of my graduating class who'd skipped college and gone straight into the military. It was the only sure-fire escape from Steeleville, for one, and for two 9-11 had happened… "Why?"

"I was pretty tired of school. The army sounded like a good idea." I smiled at that.

"And it wasn't?"

"No, it was. Just not what I was expecting."

I did a few calculations in my head. "Desert Storm?" I guessed. He nodded.

"What about you?"

"Me?" Oh, crap… I shrugged. "I wasn't the model student. I kept my grades high enough to stay in the dance team and in theater, partied when I could, and any spare time after that was mainly for homework." _Wow, who knew the past tense could hurt so much? _

"Dance team?"

"Yeah," I smiled fondly. "The Coquettes."

Ranger smiled. "You were a coquette?"

"Shove it, greenie." I glared. Ranger laughed. Ah, remind me why I decided to be nice to him?

"The last woman on the list is at work, but her husband should be home…"

I nodded and looked attentive, my thoughts stuck back home. I had the uncomfortable sensation of missing my classes. Even Dr. Ferris's_ 'Oh my god,_' I thought, suddenly horrified, _'I'm actually daydreaming of the dreaded Ferris tests… Someone help me…'_

The husband was, surprise, at home. And he was, surprise, unhelpful. Yes they'd been there, no they weren't still there, no he didn't know anything else.

"Still one step behind, Sherlock," I sighed as we got back in the car.

"That's how it is with parental abductions."

"Yuck. I feel like I'm stuck in some Lifetime movie of the week. This is taking forever," I whined. Yes, whined. I'm not my most mature when lingering hangovers and boredom are combined.

"Sometimes these cases can take years." _Ugh, Ranger humor._

"Don't tell me that. I'll be dead if that's the case."

"Babe."

"Or stuck in the Batcave," I amended, feeling a little guilty.

"Once you're in the Batcave it's forever." _Well, if someone isn't Mr. Chuckles today_…

"Right, and then I get to be Batgirl, I guess." I smirked.

"You'd look cute in a cape."

"Ranger," I said slowly, amazed at myself for what I was about to say, "be quiet and drive."

He laughed, real full-throated laughter. _Must not kill Rambo… _

We stopped and got lunch at a cute little mom and pop diner. Ranger paid. In fact, come to think of it, Ranger always paid. And he was sneaky about it. I don't think I even saw the check before it was paid for. I guess I should have gotten feminist about it and made mom proud, but I have explained before that I am a college kid and freebies are freebies.

I completely lost track of where we were but eventually I caught sight of a couple landmarks and realized we were heading for Stephanie's parents' house. "I'll have Tank drop off a car off for you. You can use it until you replace the CR-V, or until you destroy it."

"Thanks. I'll try not to get it blown up…. I must be murder on your car insurance."

"Not really."

I looked at him. He looked back at me. So there was one question answered. "Thanks Ranger."

We pulled up outside the Plum Circus to find Grandma Mazur on the front porch waiting. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable about the way your grandma looks at me," he said.

I grinned evilly. Now this line I knew. "She just wants to see you naked."

"I wish you hadn't said that."

I laughed at his expression. He looked pained. I patted his arm. "Cheer up, Buckaroo. It's hard being a stud muffin, but someone's gotta do it."

Ranger stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Which I probably had. I gave my best angelic smile.

"Babe, you sure it's good idea to bait me?"

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not," I said honestly, still grinning. "It's just too much fun to resist. You're so adorable when you get exasperated."

"You know, you used to be scared of me," Ranger sounded almost nostalgic.

I laughed, opening the door and climbing out. "You know you love it," I said as I shut the door. Okay, wow, I had lost it. It must have been the proximity to a college campus. Some sort of atmospheric change thathad altered my brain chemistry and caused temporary insanity.

It was freakin' fun, too.

I bounded up the steps to Grandma Mazur, who was holding a brown envelope. "I was walking home from the bakery and a green suv drove up. There was a teletubby driving. He told me to give this to you."

I took one look and all my fun, collegiate energy drained away. I accepted the envelope, nodding my understanding, and opened it with a growing feeling of dread. Janet Evanovich, you have one twisted little imagination.

The envelope contained photos of me on the Plums' couch, sleeping. My stomach was lurching around like a gymnast on crack. These were from last night, and even if they'd been using a zoom lens, the photographer had definitely been inside the house.

They weren't really good though- a little blurry, not a good use of lighting. Definitely amateur. I sighed. Of all times for my one semester of Photography to kick in. And I never understood why I had to have it either. I'm a marketing major for crying out loud…

Okay, stop it, Alyssa. Focus on the problem. You just got photographed without your knowledge. Which, granted, is one thing when you pass out at a party, but it's something else when you are somewhere that's supposed to be safe. Deep breaths, think calming thoughts. Panicking won't do anyone any good. Cleanse your chakras… purple light…

_Now, you're supposed to call Morelli. _

I thought about that one. Didn't sound like a good idea to me. If I called one of the other cops, I didn't even know what they looked like really, so that would be borrowing trouble. Crap.

"What is it? Looks like photos," Grandma Mazur said. I slid the pics back in the envelope and shrugged.

"Looks like a prank rabbit, Grandma. Just a sec, okay. I need to make a call." I flipped my cell phone out and dialed. It rang once.

"Yo."

"Ranger!" my voice sounded too cheerful. "Look, I pulled a total blond moment and I left my bag from the store in your car…."

"Babe?"

I glanced and Grandma and smiled. "Yeah, I know. I was hoping you weren't too far away yet? Maybe you could just bring it back?"

"Be right there." Disconnect. _And this is why when I rule the world Batman will be forced to take phone etiquette. _

"Whew, close call." I breathed a completely fake sigh of relief.

"He coming back?"

"Yeah. I caught him in time."

"So, what'd you do to your mother? She's been ironing all day."

"Nothing," I shrugged and looked at Grandma Mazur, square in the eye. "Ijusttold her I am not changing for any guy."

Grandma Mazur nodded. "Good girl. Never let anyone push you into someone else." She looked up and there was something serious and very un-Grandma-Mazur-like in her eyes. "Everyone thought I should marry your Grandpa, and so I did. But he was the most boring human being I've ever known." And there was an entire novel of history and emotions hidden in that single sentence.

I smiled and on a whim I leaned in and hugged her. She stiffened in surprise, though I chose to ignore it. "It wasn't all bad, though, right?"

"Oh no," she relaxed a little, back on familiar ground. "He wasn't so bad in bed at least. Had a real big-" Ranger's Mercedes pulled up to the curb. Thank god for Superhero Timing.

"Sorry grandma, we'll talk later!" I ran to the car and practically dove inside.

"What's up?" Ranger asked as I shut the door.

"I've got a problem." I handed him the photos. "I need to go back to th-my apartment," I said as he looked through them.

He slid the pics back in the envelope and handed them to me, his face grim and determined. You know those pictures of soldiers before they march into battle and take over small countries? Well, looking at Ranger, I began to have odd worries about Panama floating in the back of my mind.

"It's not safe."

_Yeah, Professor Higgins, I know that._ "At least no one will be in danger, except me and Hamtaro."

"Hamtaro?"

"You don't really want to know, do you?" I asked,laughing in spite of myself. Ranger's head moved vaguely to the side. I took it as a no.

"You're going to a safe house."

"No!" I said emphatically. "I am not going to a safe house because it would be your safe house. And that means you're getting involved and you'll be a target too. You have a lot more to lose, Higs."

"Babe-"

"I'll get a security system," I offered. "It'll be safe as can be."

"You won't get one installed this late today." True, it was kind of late…

"I'll call Mac. See if there's anyplace he can think of." Ranger's look went from small-country-danger to large-middle-eastern-country-danger.

"Stay with me," he suggested at last. I smiled and shook my head.

"Uh-uh. You aren't tricking me that easily. I'm not going anywhere near the Batcave."

"Thought you wanted to see it?"

"I do." _I am after all, a screaming fan girl._ "But I'm not sure I'm ready to become Batgirl."

"I meant the penthouse on Cameron." Oh, that Batcave.

Let's see… Penthouse or Super 8? Ranger or alone? Fun or pride? Yeah, you're right, stupid question.

"Okay."

Ranger was quiet for a minute. I think maybe he was shocked. "That was too easy."

I laughed at him. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." _You never know who you might find._

Ranger was in his Zen Master state as we headed for Cameron Street. Interesting, because he was Zen-ing and I was busy scrubbing my chakra points clean of any and all contamination, trying desperately to center myself and get a reprieve from the growing sense of unbalance.

The roar of an engine too loud and too close snapped my eyes open and I turned in my seat to see a car flying up the street toward us. "I see them," Ranger said, his voice deadly Zen Master calm. He was what Steven Segall longed to be. "Buckle in," he ordered. I didn't even think, just did what I was told.

I always thought Hollywood made up most of the shit that happens in those high speed chase scenes. I figured they were taking artistic license. My views rapidly changedbecauseRanger could DRIVE. Unfortunately so could whoever was in the car chasing us. I'd really love to be able to go over every move and nuance of the chase, every e-brake turn, every evasive maneuver, but I'd be making half of it up-about half the time I had my eyes squeezedshut,clinging to thehope this was all a dream because otherwise I might really be dead soon.

Ranger kept spinning around and flying up different streets until I had no idea where we were- it could have been Zimbabwe for all I knew- until we finally merged onto a highway and got lost in the traffic. I breathed a sigh of relief and sank back into the leather. I'd never make it as a Hollywood stunt driver. Or even stunt passenger.

"Babe." I looked at Ranger, wide-eyed. "It's okay," he said, his voice quiet.

_Right. Cause I like to live like The Fast and the Furious every day..._ "We're almost there."

Sure enough we got off the main road, down to a neighborhood of office buildings, and I saw the vaguely familiar silhouette of the RangeMan building looming ahead. I was just starting to relax when the headlights appeared to my right.

I realized what was happening but that was about the extent of it. I meant to yell a warning, but I don't know if I managed it. There was just the deafening roar of motors, shattering glass, twisting metal.

I thought I heard Ranger's voice but it was blurred and staticy like I had the radio tuned to the wrong spot. And somewhere else someone said my name- my real one. It was a woman, but I couldn't recognize the voice. She sounded a little like Val- an East Coast accent that was barely hanging on.

Funny, though, she had my my middle names mixed up. I wasn't going to correct her. I liked her version better. She was saying something… if I could just hear her… Damn it Ranger, shut up…

"Babe! Come on, wake up."

Shut up. I'm trying to hear the voice in my head…

"Please."

Now that was a dirty trick. I gave up trying to chase down the other voice and let Ranger win. With a last regretful thought to wonder what the mystery voice was about I resigned myself to opening my eyes and immediately wished I hadn't.

My head hurt. Again. I hate it when that happens and I don't get a night of drinking in beforehand.

"Ouch," I whimpered with all the dignity I could muster.

"I know, Babe." Ranger was pulling me up into a sitting position. Sitting.. .where was… I looked around, taking stock. The hunk of metal formerly known as the Mercedes had gotten knocked into the opposite land and there were people everywhere… in black. Men in black.

"Am I gonna get flashy-thinged?" There went my mouth again. Someday I really was going to get it wired into my brain.

Ranger wisely ignored me. "Can you walk?"

"Depends. Are my legs still attached?" I asked, looking down. Yep, legs intact. "Oh yeah, I'll be fine."

He helped me stand up and to my own amazement I managed it.

"You okay, Stephanie?" Asked a deep growly voice. If grizzly bears could talk they'd have voices like that.

"Tank!" I said turning to look at the big guy himself. "What are you doing here?"

"We were getting back from a job." Well that explained the men in black.

"Where's the other driver?" Ranger and Tank exchanged a look. Never mind. I didn't want to know. Let's change the subject.

"Tank?" He looked down at me. "Why is there one girl smurf?" That seemed safe enough.


	26. Chapter 27

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 27

Disclaimer: No Joes, Janets or Teletubbies were harmed in the making of this fic.

Note:This chapter contains sex. Originally it contains my first smut scene, but it will not be appearing in this version.This is for Lois, Suze, Joanne, Renee, Rae, Tiina, and everyone who's been on about that cookie scene…

**00000000000000000000000000**

"Because one is more than enough." Tank smiled. My mouth fell open.

I had strange visions of Tank and Ranger pondering my question over a bottle of vodka in some war-torn Eastern European country. '_Dude, I'm tellin' ya, moren' one'll kill ya…_' '_You're right, abs'tively. Too many damned women…'_

I giggled. Whether it was the nerves or the stress or whatever the hell, it struck me as funny. I just started laughing.

I hate car wrecks. Have I mentioned that? It's true, though. I hate car wrecks. They always made me so shaky and just a little hysterical. I didn't like the sound of them or the feeling of them or the way the car looked afterward. And I didn't like shaking and feeling hysterical. I liked that part least of all.

And just when I didn't think it could get much worse, I looked at the other car. There was a fuzzy red antenna thing from the head of a teletubby lying on the hood. My nose started running.

I put my hand up to cover what I already knew was a stream of red. Ranger was thankfully off by the other car, talking to Lester. He'd left me with Tank and a slightly smaller Tank 2.0 who said his name was Bobby.

"Stephanie?" Bobby sounded like he had said my name a couple times already. I turned without thinking.

"Christ!" Tank rumbled.

"It's nothing," I insisted. "Anybody got a Kleenex?"

I never got an answer. Instead I got forced to lay down, using Bobby's jacket as a pillow while the two bears hovered and demanded to know where the hell the EMT's were at. Bobby was muttering something about head injuries.

I sighed and gave up worrying about it. Someone handed me a handkerchief so that was useful and just a little entertaining. I had a hard time picturing any of the scary Rent-a-thugs using a kerchief. I just hoped it wasn't Tank's. I couldn't take it if Tank owned a handkerchief. It would be like Ranger watching basketball in sweats and drinking a non-imported beer. Terrifying.

Bobby kept asking me questions. It took me several minutes to figure out he was probably just trying to keep me talking in case something was wrong. I considered giving him weird, nutty answers to the questions but gave it up. As fun as it would be it would most likely make them grumpy.

After a while I just tuned out and sort of went where I was told and tilted my head the way they moved it, nodded when it was appropriate, said 'no it doesn't' when they asked if anything hurt. Eventually they decided I might have a concussion and packed me off to the hospital. Tank and Bobby stayed with me.

The EMTs gave them several startled looks and opened their mouths repeatedly as if to issue an order, then Bobby or Tank would give them that blank scary I-will-eat-your-soul look and the EMT would close his mouth.

It was a crowded ride. The back of my head asked silly questions about insurance and co-pays and medical liability and billing information and social security numbers. I ignored it.

The hospital was boring. There weren't even any hot male nurses or doctors to flirt with. Just Tank and Bobby, who were both in non-verbal modes. I counted ceiling tiles until the bustling nurse somehow bustled the two MIBs out long enough for me to get into a hospital gown. Finally I got wheeled into X-Ray, scanned, and wheeled back.

Then an older middle-aged doctor came in and cleaned my various cuts and scrapes. I hadn't even noticed them until he started disinfecting them.

I yelped and grabbed Tank's massive paw when it got to the pulling glass bits out of my arm, which got me a sympathetic look from the doctor and a smirk from Tank.

"'Can't be that bad, Stephanie. You've had worse."

Yeah, right. I've been shot. Only I wasn't here for it. I glared at him. Bobby laughed, Tank looked like he was considering laughing.

Finally I was cleared to go, so the nurse bustled Thing 1 and Thing 2 back out to let me dress. Unfortunately when the door opened it wasn't Tank and Bobby. Joe Morelli walked in, his handsome face serious and his shoulders set. My dad always looked like that whenever he and mom were fighting. I swallowed hard. I really didn't have the energy for this tonight.

"Hi, Joe," I made myself smile. Play your part, Alyssa. Whatever part it is… I'm too tired for this. I'm frazzled… this isn't going to work…

"Stephanie. We need to talk." The door shut and he leaned against the wall next to it. I thought about sitting on the examining table but something stopped me. I was too nervous. Stand up. Ready to run…

"There's not much left to talk about." I kept my voice normal, not even a trace of nerves.

"There is," Joe sighed. "I've made some mistakes, all right? You were on the money the other day- you said I spent more time worrying about you and Ranger than you and me. I came to apologize for that."

I blinked, stunned speechless for a second. Joe Morelli? Apologizing? Mark the calendar. "Thank you, Joe. That means a lot."

He walked forward then, coming to stand just in front of me, far enough for polite society, too close for comfort. "Give me another chance, Cupcake. I love you."

"Joe, I-"

"Shh," he smiled softly. "I know. I know you don't want to hear it, but I do." His eyes were holding mine, and they were warm and accepting, full of love. _Oh no…_ "I love you and I want to marry you, Stephanie Plum. We can pick out a ring tomorrow."

_Merde_

I took a shaky breath and tried to ignore the tears building up in my eyes.

"Just say yes. Come home with me, Steph."

I tried to say something but it stuck in my throat. I was caught. I couldn't say anything. Couldn't think what to say. Joe took my silence for assent and quickly closed the distance between us to pull me close. His lips touched mine and my eyes drifted shut for a moment. Give in, go home with him, marry him, have a happy Leave it to Beaver life… _turn into Desperate Housewives within a year._

I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled away to look up into his eyes. "Why?"

Joes shook his head a little, confused. "Why what?"

"Why now? Why tonight?"

His hand tucked a lock of heir behind my ear. "I miss your curls. But this is more sexy…"

"Joe, focus." _Thinking with the wrong head, sweetie…_ "Why?"

"Because," he said, cupping my cheek and meeting my gaze again. "I got the call you'd been in a wreck with Manoso and I was scared. I could have lost you forever tonight."

And I'd been with Ranger.

"Joe, I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore."_ I can't do this once_. "This still only fixes one problem. What about my job? You still want me to give it up?"

"Of course I do. You're going to get yourself killed."

I nodded. It was a valid possibility. "You might be right. But I'm still going to do my job, and I am still going to try my best. I might get killed doing it. I might get killed on the way to the grocery store. I might get a brain tumor and die six months from now. I might get struck by lightning." I shrugged.

"I can't believe this… you'd choose your job over us?" Joe took a step back, staring at me in disbelief.

"Listen to me, Joe," I said slowly. "I'm not the girl from the 'Burg, I don't cook, I don't clean. I have a gun. I work with guys named Tank. I blow stuff up and I carry a gun. I love not having an office job, I love knowing I am making a difference, I love doing it all my own way, and I love knowing that I can kick serious bad guy ass." I added that last part with a fond thought back to the dojo.

"If I gave up my job for you, what do I have? A husband, maybe the start of a family, but I'm losing friends, losing my independence." My smile was sad. "I can't afford that. I'm not even sure I'd survive it."

"You used to ask me about cookie jars and curtains…"

"Life is more than cookie jars and curtains, Joe."

"I love you, Cupcake, but—"

"That's the problem with you, Joe." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "There's always a qualification. Jump through one more hoop and I'll love you forever. That's quite a carrot, you know?"

"You've changed, Stephanie," his eyes were clouded with confusion and he was frowning now, and the beginnings of anger stirring in his voice. "I don't even know you anymore."

"And you want to marry me?" I raised my eyebrows, amused in spite of it all.

"Yes. I do. I want to marry you. I want you to have a safe, happy life with me."

_Save me from myself you mean._ "You just said you don't know me."

"God damn it, Stephanie!" his voice rose. He was yelling now. I winced at the sound of it. "Be serious. That's your problem- you can't. You think you're immortal- some kind of superhero, well you're not. You are a disaster waiting to happen!" _Ow, that one hurt._

"I am not a disaster!" _Where the hell are Tank and Bobby?_

"The hell you aren't." Joe was getting even louder. Janet wasn't kidding about that Italian temper. "You go around acting like you're in some stupid comic book, without once thinking about the people who care about you. Who want you safe!

"But you don't care about much, do you, Steph? You manipulate people until they love you, then they start to bore you and you drop them. That's the real you, isn't it?" His hand grabbed my arm and shook me. "You don't care about anyone. I'm not the problem, oh no, it's you. Do you even have a heart or are you just all about getting fucked?"

I didn't even know I was moving until my foot connected with his knee. Joe let out a howl of pain but his grip loosened.

I pulled loose and ran. The hall passed in a blur. I thought I heard Tank yell, but it could have been anyone with a deep voice. I didn't look, didn't slow down, just kept running.

'_do you even have a heart…'_

_'you manipulate people… then you drop them…' _

I couldn't hear myself think for all the yelling still echoing in my head. Joe's voice, then my mom's, my dad's… Decades later, a universe away, and my childhood traumas were still echoing. Freud would adore me. Too bad he wasn't here to counsel me through it. Instead I was alone on an unfamiliar street, running through the dark for all I was worth.

I didn't have a goal in mind, hell I didn't even know where I was really. My only thought was that I was going to get away; far, far away. Away from emotional scars and fake identities. Away from the danger of being assimilated into the Burg. Away.

Okay, not that far away. I have never been much of a distance runner. And I was crying again. Which was getting really old, because I don't cry. I didn't really even cry when I caught Chris the scum-sucking ex with another girl. I'd been too relieved. I'd been trying to come up with a reason to dump him anyway.

_'you manipulate people until they love you, then they start to bore you and you drop them.' _

_I didn't mean to._ Story of my life. I didn't mean to.

I sat down on the curb and tried to catch my breath. I needed to go back. I'd probably just caused Def Con 5. 3. 1. 12. I hated numbers… why were there always numbers? And which was worse: 5 or 1?

If I went back there were guys who'd know. I bet Tank knew all about Def Cons. Maybe Bobby did too. I sniffled and stood up. I had a mission.

I'd just stepped back through the doors of the hospital when I was surrounded. Okay, not surrounded exactly, it was just Bobby and Tank but they were big enough that it was pretty much the same thing.

"Are you all right?" Bobby asked, concerned.

"Where were you?" I demanded, feeling just a little betrayed.

"Sorry. The doctor was talking to Tank and"

"There you are!" drawled a heart-stoppingly familiar voice. I turned toward the speaker, caught in a trance. My brain had stopped; I didn't dare to actually think about it… "You had these boys scared stupid, hon."

I stared in shock as my dad walked toward me. I blinked. He was still there looking exactly like he'd always looked. Healthy tan, lightly curling brown hair accenting his perpetually boyish face, sparkling sky blue eyes, and actually making the nurses stare at something besides Tank and Bobby. Jeans, boots, blue western-cut shirt, wooly-lined vest, Oklahoma accent. Saying he stuck out like a sore thumb was an understatement of massive proportions. For the umpteenth time, I wondered if he'd ever age or just look somewhere between 18 and 45 forever.

"Daddy?" I breathed, wondering how hard I'd hit my head after all.

He laughed and I thought I'd lose it again. Then he pulled me into a bear hug. He smelled like fresh air and Stetson cologne.

"Sssh, it's okay, shortcake," he said as I ended up sobbing into his vest. "You're fine."

Daddy's idea of intensely comforting words: 'You're fine.' It meant, 'it's over, and there aren't any bones broken, so brush it off and get back on the horse.'

"Now, how about you introduce me to your friends?"

I sniffled, taking a deep breath before I stepped away from him. I kept my hand on his arm, just in case. I wasn't sure I'd live through it if he disappeared right now. He wasn't the world's best dad, he missed important dates, barely ever called, forgot my birthday, wasn't overly emotional, but he was MINE. And he gave the best hugs.

"Daddy, this is—" I stared helplessly at Tank. I wasn't sure how to wrangle this one… "This is Tank and this is Bobby. They work for RangeMan…"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Plum," Tank said, holding out his hand. Dad took it.

"Just Frank." I spared a moment to stare in awe as my dad shook hands first with Tank, then with Bobby_. Frank?_ My dad's name was Clint…

"So, you boys are taking care of my little girl?" Dad's blue eyes were giving them both a skeptical once over. I couldn't even think what he must be thinking. Even dressed in Rangeman black SWAT gear, they were both way too urban for dad.

"Yes sir," they said.

"You're staying with Ranger, I take it? That's his company." Dad's gaze was back on me. I nodded and fought the urge to shuffle my feet. "What happened tonight? Your stepmother's gotten five calls tonight. She got me at the airport and ordered me down here." _My stepmother? _

"Just a car accident," I said hurriedly. Dad snorted.

"So what about this Teletubby Ellen's been on about? And your car blowing up?"

"Uh… just a case I'm working on."

Dad's eyes were piercing. "You could fly out to the Wyoming place. Help with the roundup."

I blinked. That's it. I've gone loony and any moment now that Thorazine drip is bound to kick in. "I need to finish this."

Dad patted my hand where it rested on his arm. "Good girl. Now, I better get on home and sort your stepmom out." He hugged me, then paused for a moment. "Sweetie… I know she ain't your mom, but she is worried about you. Don't be too hard on her, all right?"

I nodded. _Waiting for the Thorazine here, people…._

Dad was about to turn and leave. I stood frozen, feeling like I had the first time I remember him getting on a plane to head out to Las Vegas. I'd been four, and terrified that he wasn't going to come back… he was going to walk out that door and turn into the other Frank Plum and he'd be gone forever.

He suddenly turned back, his eyes fixed on my arm. "What's that from?" he asked. My eyes widened, the last time I'd heard that tone…

"What?"

Dad ignored me and pulled up the sleeve of my t-shirt. I looked down in horror. Where Joe had grabbed my arm there was now a ring of bruises forming. _Oh my god…_

Dad's hand gently took hold of my wrist and lifted my arm. "When did this happen?"

The Merry Men were exchanging one of those commando looks.

"Look, it wasn't- we were fighting- he just" I shut my mouth and bit my lip to keep it closed. Bruises were bruises. I knew first hand what it sounded like when a girl defended a guy for leaving them. I didn't want to end up back in a psychiatrist's office. Unless someone promised Thorazine...

"Morelli?" Bobby questioned. I kept my eyes focused on the elevator doors.

I wanted the script back.

"That cop? He did this?" Dad's voice was distinctly unhappy.

"Dad, look—"

"You aren't seeing him again, young lady. You got that?" he growled.

I nodded, biting my lip. Stephanie was thirty, she could probably tell her dad not to order her around. I wasn't thirty, and my dad was scarier than hers. "Don't worry. I already nailed him for it." Dad visibly relaxed. "I kicked him in the knee cap."

"He's going to be limping for a while," Bobby said.

"Good for you, sweetheart." Dad turned to look at the Merry Men. "He still around here?"

"I think the docs took him into room 12." Bobby sounded grimly amused.

I frowned and looked around for Tank. He had moved off a little ways and was on his cell phone. "She just walked in, Boss. Her dad's here…. Right. Got it…."

"You go on now," Dad told me, smiling a little. "I think I'm going to go have a talk with the cop. You behave yourself. None of your theatrics."

I scowled at that. He just ruffled my hair and chuckled, then set off down the hall. I considered yelling a reminder about security cameras, but decided against it. Dad could take care of himself. It was one of his amazing super powers. Drop him in the middle of a civil war in a third world country and he'd end up with a diamond mine and a commission to the UN.

"The cars are here," Tank said, his voice cutting into my thoughts. Those simple words kicked them both into SWAT mode.

Bobby got sent out to play look out, and apparently a second team was waiting with a car because it drove up, I got sandwiched between Bobby and Tank, and they somehow got me into the SUV without me ever seeing sky, parking lot, or anything besides their bodies.

Which, mind you, I wasn't going to complain about because it was an excellent view. Beat the hell out of cement and streetlights. It was still a little surreal though. Lester was the driver and I was beginning to feel like Britney Spears only I didn't get the fun slutty clothes.

"Um, guys, what's going on?" I finally asked, feeling way out of my depth. This wasn't in the script. Then again, neither was the wreck… or wait a sec… it was. Except the rabbit, not Teletubby, was supposed to rear end the Buick, and it was only supposed to be Stephanie in the car… Ranger wasn't supposed to get involved until his truck got blown up.

"Abruzzi's guys made a mistake," Tank said. Yeah, that was an understatement.

"They didn't know I was with Ranger tonight. He wasn't the target."

"Don't matter." Bobby's smile was dangerous. "Abruzzi just got a war with the boss."

I thought about that. Maybe I wouldn't have to kill Abruzzi after all. I breathed deeply. Ranger would probably end up doing it. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Les glanced back at me via the rearview mirror. "It ain't your fault, gorgeous."

Tank's hand settled on my shoulder. _Killer teddy bears…_ I smiled at Les, then at Tank and Bobby.

"Thanks." I said, settling back into the seat to enjoy my role as VIP. There was another black SUV in front of us. I wondered if Hal or Cal or Junior was driving it. Maybe one of the other nameless Merry Men…

Back at the Rangeman building I got ushered inside by Tank and Bobby. Ranger met us at the door and swept me off into an elevator. The silence was forbidding. So was he. His face was distant, blank and unreadable. I chewed my lip, suddenly nervous.

Okay, let's get it over with.

"Ranger?" my voice was quiet in the elevator. Wow, this was so different from the last time we'd stood here. I'd been happy, drunk, and throwing myself at him… Now I was awkward, nervous, and practically cowering on the other side of the small space.

He didn't say anything. _Hello, __Afghanistan_

The elevator stopped and we got out. I followed him into the apartment. The door closed with an almost ominous 'click' and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Please, just don't yell?" I requested quietly. "You can lecture or throw things or-or whatever. Silent works too…"

He turned to me, but I still couldn't read his expression. I wished my heartbeat would slow the hell down. My blood was rushing in my ears. I felt shaky again.

"I'm sorry about this. I didn't mean for you to get dragged in. I'm sorry about your car. I'm sorry I ran away. I was scared and I couldn't think and I…" I lowered my head and let my hair cover my face. "I went stupid, okay?" I said to the floor.

"Cars are replaceable, people aren't." His arms wrapped around me and he kissed the top of my head before resting his cheek in the spot. "You aren't, babe. No more running away from my guys, all right?"

"I promise. No more running away."

We stayed like that for a while. I'd have been happy to stay like that for hours but Ranger pulled away. I looked up at him, momentarily confused until I saw his eyes. He was looking at me, examining, as if he was trying to read me or memorize me… something like that.

I had the unhappy feeling he was probably about to suggest sleeping arrangements. Not a bad thing, except it was probably going to involve him in one place me in another. I was not in the mood for politically correct. I was completely worn out of reality and worrying about what would happen. My inner fangirl was taking charge.

"Ranger…" My voice was hesitant. _I've never really done this kind of thing before, have you?_ "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Shoot, Babe." He looked… curious.

I smiled just a little. I was shaky, scared, upset. But this would be fun. "Just add it to my tab?"

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Alright." My smile widened

"Can I stay with you tonight, bed-wise I mean?"

His eyes widened, but the corner of his mouth tipped up. "I think I could arrange it."

Men are so easy.

I leaned up and pressed my lips to his jawline, tracing a line to the corner of his mouth and then finally placing my lips on his. Sure enough, I was rewarded with a groan and his arms tightening around me as he took control of the kiss. You know all those cheesy romance lines about tongues plundering and burning passion? Well, I was definitely being plundered- and loving every second of it. And maybe those writers weren't being so cheesy after all… maybe they knew what they were talking about…

His hands crept lower to settle on my butt and I found myself being lifted. Obligingly I wrapped my legs around his waist, running my own hands through his hair. I couldn't wait to be naked to see what it felt like when his hair touched my skin…

And then we were in the bedroom, clothes flying. As good as Ranger looked with clothes on, he looked better without them. I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, amazed at the solid muscle, the hard planes, the way my pale skin showed against his darker complexion.

My explorations were cut short as he began tugging my shirt off. I stepped back and raised my arms. Somehow my bra was mysteriously unfastened and went sailing away with the shirt. His eyes raked over me and I could almost see the heat kick up a notch. Then they settled on the bruises showing up on my arm. Uh-oh. Time for a distraction…

I smiled and slowly unfastened my jeans, taking my time with them. I caught his eyes and held them as I knelt in front of him and began working on the fastening of his cargos. It took me a moment but I managed. I had meant to slide them down and do a slow tease sort of thing, but well, something came to my attention. Whoops, forgot about the commando issue… okay, no freezing up and blushing like a virgin… you can, er, do this…

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, my inner Chelsea and Renee let out a long chorus of high-pitched fangirl squeaks. Ranger was _built_. I let my lips turn up in a half-smile. This would definitely be fun.

Edited b/c ffnet doesn't do smut scenes anymore. For original content you'll have to check out my Plum site. Link will be posted... erm, sometime...

He bent his head and kissed me softly. After a few moments he rolled off of me and we lay there for awhile, Ranger's arms around me loosely, not possessive but not letting go either. I used my last energy to curl into him, resting my head on his shoulder, breathing in the mingled scents of sex, Bulgari, and Ranger. I got the weirdest craving for cookies…

Somehow the outside world had disappeared. There hadn't been a wreck tonight, there weren't any homicidal maniacs. It was just us, this place, and the whole long night. The thought of it woke me up a little. _Stay tonight, and fight the break of dawn…_

I rolled over and kissed Ranger soundly, then placed a trail of kisses all the way to his ear. "You," I whispered, "are the best. Too bad you know it." Ranger let out an amused half-laugh, half-sigh that turned into a tortured moan as I began licking and playing with his ear.

"You're one to talk, querida… Dio…"

He didn't know the meaning of the word tease. Good thing I had plenty of time to show him.

A long time and several rounds later, we ended tangled up together too exhausted to move. My head was laying on his chest and his arms were around me tight although I could feel him shaking just a little.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice sounding much deeper than usual with my ear pressed against his ribs.

"Perfect," I yawned. "That's going to be one hell of a tab… you aren't charging interest are you?"

"Only if you're a good girl."

That dragged a laugh out of me. "When I'm bad, I'm better."

"Yeah you are, he said softly. I smiled and snuggled closer to him.

It had been a very weird day. I had my dad back. Ranger was in on the war-game way ahead of schedule. I had my dad back. I'd just slept with Ranger way ahead of schedule and apparently I'd be doing it again soon… But I'd think about it tomorrow. Right now I had a warm, naked Ranger, soft sheets, and a small army between me and the bad guys. That was enough.

"Ranger?"

"Hmm?"

"What's 'Def Con'? And why are there numbers?"

He laughed and held me tighter. "Babe," he sighed, kissing the top of my head. "Go to sleep."


	27. Chapter 28

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 28

**_Note:_** Janet is probably putting a hit out on me… And Tank doesn't like Scrabble. He likes Trivial Pursuit. Not much happens in this chapter. No Morelli butts were kicked in the writing of this particular chapter. ;) For a link to my Plum website and the unedited version of the last chapter, check my bio.

**_Disclaimer:_** This doesn't really belong to me. Except the alterations to the plot, and Alyssa.

**00000000000000000000000000000000000**

I woke up slowly, easing back into reality one neuron at a time. I sighed in contentment, feeling a smile creep onto my face as I snuggled back against the firm chest. Ranger was practically wrapped around me. It was a good way to wake up. No, scratch that, good didn't cover it. This was heavenly.

Too bad I had to get up. I sighed, feeling disappointed at the prospect. But I really had to. I needed to figure out how and why my dad had gotten here. I needed to figure out what to do about Abruzzi. I should call Val or Jack and see what they'd been up to. I should talk to Ellen/Helen who had apparently become my stepmother somehow. I should call Mac and apologize for not making it to the dojo yesterday…

I got as far as moving my leg when pain started shooting through me. I felt like I'd taken a fall off my quarter horse mid-gallop, only to be trampled by a stampeding herd of Texas longhorns. And thanks to last night's sextracurriculars I was sore EVERYWHERE. There really might be something to be said for smaller guys.

I tried to move again, and gave up with a whimper.

"Shh, Babe," Ranger's voice was husky. "Last night catching up with you?"

"Yeah."

"Stay still. Tank got your scripts filled last night." Then he was gone. I sighed, unhappy at the sudden aloneness. I also stayed still. Another reason I hated car wrecks. Ranger came back with a glass of water and couple pills. I glared at him.

"How come you're all mobile?"

"I wasn't the one whose side got knocked in." He smiled a little. "And I'm tougher." I stuck my tongue out at him, which only got me a bigger smile. He set the pills and water on the bedside table and helped me sit up. I needed about all the help I could get.

As I sat up, though, the covers fell away, revealing that I was still naked. Ranger was wearing a robe but I was pretty sure he was still au naturale underneath it, too. I don't have a problem with nudity under normal circumstances, as a side effect of being raised by a mom with New Age ideas, probably, but looking down at myself I had to grimace. My arms were dotted with cuts from the glass, and the left side of my ribcage was a solid bruise from where I must have hit the console or something. There were a ring of bruises around my left arm that stood out way too much as I took the pills from Ranger. I hoped maybe my legs didn't have too much wrong with them.

"Thanks, Higs," I said before I downed the pills and most of the water.

"God, Babe," Ranger shook his head. "Why didn't you say something? I didn't-"

"Hey, trust me, nothing was hurting last night. And if you dare say you wish we hadn't I'm going to knock your head off."

"Never. Wouldn't change a thing." He smiled. _Smart boy._ "We should probably get you something to eat."

"Right. Does that involve movement?"

"I'll have Ella send something up."

"Thanks…" I stopped and caught his eye. "For everything, Ranger. I don't know how I'm going to repay you for all this."

Ranger shook his head, his dark hair gleaming in the sunlight. "Don't, Babe. There's no price, not between us. Not now, not ever." Coming from a possible merc, gun-runner, and Wall Street tycoon, that is a very big thing. But so help me, Janet, if he said anything about going back to Morelli I'd kill him. Super Special Forces skills be damned, hell hath no fury like Alyssa pissed.

"You aren't going to send me back to Morelli now are you?"

Ranger stared at me.

"Well, it's a valid question. You keep telling me he's a good guy and he loves me and all that jazz. And you don't do relationships, etc."

His eyes flicked to the bruises on my arm. "I'm not going to tell you to go back to him." He smiled a little, his expression getting a little wolf-y on the edges. "I could make you forget all about him, but I won't. I'm going to be a nice guy and—"

"Has it ever occurred to you, Ranger, that maybe I don't want the nice guy? If I wanted the nice guy I'd be picking out rings with Morelli today and agonizing over china patterns. Maybe what I want is the not-so-nice guy. Maybe someone like you."

Oh my god. I was sitting here in Ranger's bed, naked, bruised, and drugged, talking about serious relationship issues. What the hell is wrong with me? I demand Thorazine, damn it. Xanax. Paxil. Something…

"Babe," Ranger moved closer, brushing his hand along my cheek. "I told you. My life doesn't lend itself to relationships."

Okay, I had a choice here. I could go Stephanie's route and give in. I could punch him for being a stupid thick-headed male. I could let him work things out for himself… God, no, I'd be waiting for Janet knew how long on that one. Book 17 anyone? Okay. So, because Ranger is a male, let's try spelling it out for him. Grab the Bunsen burners and storm the bridge.

"I know. But… I want you to think about something?" I waited for his barely-there nod before I continued. "You know I'd do anything you ask of me, right? I believe in you, I trust you, and, yeah, I love you." His eyes widened and I shook my head. "Don't get excited, this isn't exactly coming with a ring attached if you get me." _Hah, Mac isn't the only one that can steal lines around here..._ "You, for your part, have always helped me, gone out of your way for me, and you've been there. Ranger, I hate to break this to you, but we've sort of had a relationship for a while now. And your lifestyle has not screwed it up."

He stared at me, his eyes assessing. I could almost see rows and columns going up and down. Porsche here, morning run there. Ramos case over here…

"What do you want, Babe?"

I grinned. Too easy."A new pair of Sketchers and world peace."

Ranger smiled. "I meant from me?"

"What do I want from you?" _Oh, rats._ I thought about it for a second. "I want… a hug, and a cup of hot chocolate."

"I'm being serious, Babe."

"So am I. I want a hug and a cup of hot chocolate." Ranger looked skeptical.

"No pushing for a more traditional relationship? You don't want to see the Batcave?" _Wow, he does know Stephanie..._

I laughed. "Traditional is boring. And you still are not tricking me that easily. You said the Batcave is forever. I'm not going anywhere near the Batcave until I have an undying desire to wear a cape and have a nifty utility belt." Ranger picked up the bottle from the table and scanned the label. "What are you doing?"

"Checking for side effects. You're acting drunk."

"No, when I'm drunk I'm trying to jump you. Not that I blame myself. In fact I may have to start jumping you when sober…"

"Babe," Ranger chuckled, and looked at me, his eyes warm and… eep, I was getting warm fuzzy vibes off Batman. Stop it. "Behave until you're off the meds."

I sighed. "I see you're a man of principles. I better be going while you still have them…"

"You aren't going anywhere," he said seriously. "You are staying here. I'll have Ella check up on you."

I considered arguing with this. It would have been the Stephanie thing to do. Unfortunately, I couldn't move and when the pain meds kicked in I was still going to be unable to move but less willing to care about it. This was no condition to go up against Eddie Abruzzi in. I'd be dead in no time. On the other hand I could stay here, get waited on, maybe even do the Stephanie thing of snooping through Ranger's stuff to a minor degree or try to get Ella to talk.

Gee, such a tough decision. "Fine," I gave a long-suffering sigh. "I guess it beats a safe house."

An annoying ringing interrupted anything he might have said, and Ranger disappeared, cell phone in hand. I laid back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. I didn't feel so sore now, just stiff. I think the pain-sensors were slowly being isolated and beaten into submission by the medication…

"Here Babe," Ranger said, just as a black something landed on my head, obscuring my vision. I pulled it off and looked at it. A black t-shirt. And a set of black boxers. The Boxers. Holy hat tricks, Batman… "Don't want you to shock Ella."

Who was I to refuse?

Ranger helped me stand up and kept a hold of my arm while the world did a little jig. Whether it was the pills or dehydration, I was pretty woozy. Woozy. Who comes up with these words? We can have strange scrabble-cheating words like woozy but no tenses concerning the temporary possession of a body. Or maybe not so temporary anymore…

Oh. My. God. I just had sex in someone else's body. I swayed and found myself leaning against Ranger. On second thought, look who I got to have sex with. Tell me any other fangirl worth her salt wouldn't steal a body or two to get in bed with that?

I giggled to myself as Ranger stood me back up."Maybe you don't need to be standing up."

"Hey, I'm good. Just taking a moment to recalibrate. See? All better now." I took a couple steps away and looked back at him. "Go on, go get some food or I'll be forced to eat… you." I winked and slipped into the bathroom. Time to get my shower on.

Oh yeah, I loved pain pills. Pain pills were fun.

Once I was fully showered I put on the T-shirt and boxers and wandered out in search of his Batness. I found him in the breakfast/dining room area thing. I wasn't sure what to call it. My brain was beginning to disregard unnecessary words. But it had retained the word 'bagel.' There was a plate of them, all toasty and warm. And fruit. I looked at the strawberries and thought seriously of finding Ella and confessing my undying love. Then I saw the mug of yummy hot chocolate sitting by one of the plates. I think I squealed.

"Ranger, I changed my mind."

"About what?"

"I want more from you than a hug and hot chocolate. I want your housekeeper," I laughed, and paused by him to give his shoulders a quick squeeze. "Thanks for being such a sweetheart."

Ranger choked on his tea and coughed to cover it. I just smiled sweetly and snagged a bagel. It was coated with cream cheese by the time I sat down. "Babe," Ranger sighed. "A week ago the thought of sex with me was enough to make you run screaming. Now I'm a 'sweetheart'?"

"That was then?" I suggested, sighing happily as I bit into the bagel. Ranger shook his head, sipping his tea thoughtfully. I watched him carefully, just waiting for him to stick out the pinky finger. Come on, do the pinky thing… Dance, puppet…

"What's changed?"

"Me," I answered honestly, unable to hide the smile as I clarified. "I'm me now. You're still you. But me now isn't quite as scared of you as me then. And I don't think me then was scared of you exactly, more like what you represented or the feelings you caused or something philosophical like that."

Ranger set down the tea and buttered a muffin. It was almost better than seeing the pinky thing. "Most women want a lot more than a hug and chocolate," he said. _Ah, testing the waters…_

"Why?"

"Don't you want a family? A marriage? The whole thing."

"Again I ask, why?" I stared at him. Anyone who knew me knew my views on marriage were cynical to say the least, and my views on kids only marginally less so.

Ranger took a deep breath. "What about what I want from you?"

"I figure you'll let me know when you figure it out. And if you want nothing, that's cool, but you have my friendship of course. If you want more, be specific. And use small words. I'm easily confused."

"No, babe," Ranger smiled, "You're easily distracted. Not so easily confused."

"Speaking of which, you never did answer me about Def Cons."

"Tonight, I promise."

"Hm. Are you taking over any small countries today? Or just small amounts of corporate raiding?"

"Neither. Getting intel and dealing with Abruzzi." I bit my lip and put down the unfinished bagel. Suddenly I wasn't so hungry anymore. I picked up my hot chocolate and concentrated on it.

"You shouldn't be," I said to Ranger, keeping my eyes on the chocolate. "It is my problem."

A movement to my left caught my attention. I turned to find myself looking into a pair of dark chocolate eyes that caught and held me. "That makes it my problem, Babe. The wreck last night just made it official."

He kissed me gently, and I gave up trying to think, just wrapped my arms around his neck and responded, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth, engaging in that ancient pass-time of tongue hockey. Unfortunately Ranger pulled away. He rested his forehead against mine and cupped my face in his hands. "You're going to make me late."

"That wouldn't be good. Superheroes can't be late."

Ranger headed into the shower and I curled up on the couch, intending to find something worth watching on TV. I woke up as someone deposited me back in the bed and pulled the duvet over me.

"Ranger?" I asked, trying to get my eyes to focus. A mocha-colored hand brushed the side of my face.

"Right here." His lips touched my cheek. "Get some rest. Ella and Tank will check in on you. I'll be back tonight."

"Don't get shot," I whispered as I drifted back into my dreams.

Something was ringing. Ugh. Damn you Alexander Graham Bell. I moaned and lifted my head off the pillow, blinking to get my eyes convinced to look at the same thing at the same time. I had the nasty feeling they were both trying to wander out of my head.

After a second or two they gave up and resigned themselves to staying put, so I put out and hand and grabbed the cell phone off the nightstand. Funny, I didn't remember leaving it there. Maybe Ranger put it there. Or Ella. Or the house elves. Batman should have house elves. The ringing had stopped and the call had kicked over to voicemail. I sighed and wondered whether I was twenty or thirty and whether either age was too young for my body to just fall apart.

I still felt like I'd been stampeded on. Except now maybe it was just regular cows instead of longhorns. Maybe Jersey's. Jersey cows. Giggle. Funny. Ow. Ribs. Where'd the pills go? I looked at the nightstand. There was a note there, along with the pills, a glass of water, and some cookies. That's it. I did believe in marriage. I believed in marrying Ella. Or the house elves. Whichever.

I took two of the pills, probably looking like a junkie in desperate need of a fix, and set about attempting to unlock the secrets of the universe. Well, okay, just getting into the voice mailbox. But as groggy as I was it might as well have been the secrets of the universe. It took me a couple times, and I was pretty sure I'd dialed Tanzania at least once, but I did it. I was almost instantly sorry I had. Vinnie was on there. He was unhappy. Then, I guessed that was Vinnie's normal state of affairs. It can't be easy loving a duck.

Great, time to call weasel boss back…

"Where the hell are you?" demanded Vinnie. "Get your ass out and find Bender! Geez, one stupid wreck and you—"

"Vinnie?"

"Yeah?"

"You got a problem with it, talk to Ranger. I'm where I'm at under his orders."

Silence. Then, "You working for Ranger? No, you're working for me and-"

"Actually, I'm working for both of you. And anyway, Bender's sick. He's probably going to be dead soon. Easy pickings for you, if you're that concerned about it. And you have insurance for this crap anyway. Now excuse me, I just took enough pain meds to knock down a buffalo and you're interfering with my beauty sleep. Good luck, and love ya, Cous." Disconnect.

I punched the buttons until it said the phone was on vibrate only. Buttons and numbers buttons and numbers. Too many of them. I need simpler things. Like a voice activated phone that just does what I tell it… The world should be like that. Just do what I say, and it will all work out… It wouldn't be an easy job being the center of the universe, but someone should do it.

The next time I woke up I got the feeling there was something very large in the room with me. Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? I am!

"Steph? Wake up," came a growly bear voice.

"Tank?" I asked, struggling into a sitting position.

"How ya feeling?" He asked, walking further into the room. He was holding a plate with a sandwich of some sort. It looked like a kiddie plate next to him. I wondered if they made china that would be proportionate to him. Must make dinner parties a pain…

"I'm better. I'll be doing gymnastics by tomorrow."

Tank smiled and set the plate down on my lap. "You need to eat. Boss just called- he's gonna be back in a while. Seems your missing kid might turn up at the airport."

"Thank you. This looks great," I said inspecting the sandwich. "Turkey?" He nodded and I relaxed. I had learned the hard way to ask what anything is before you eat it. It might turn out to be rattle snake. Or monkey. Depending on who was serving it.

Reassured of its semi-normal domestically tasteful origins, I dug in. Turkey, cheese, mustard. I didn't even want to guess how it was known not to put mayo on it. This house elf gig rocked. "Sit down, T. You're making me nervous," I said between mouthfuls.

Tank sat on the end of the bed and looked like he couldn't decide whether to relax or be awkward.

"Have you been here all day?"

"Nah. Just checking in on you while Ella's on her breaks."

"Has Ella been here all day?"

Tank grinned. "Nah. Just every hour or so."

"What time is it?"

"About fourteen hundred."

I blinked. Huh? Military… okay, that meant… um.. numbers… too many… does not compute. System failure… "Civilian, Tank. Think civilian."

"Two in the afternoon," he chuckled. He did that on purpose. Grrr.

"Sorry you got stuck babysitting me," I said, after I finished off the last of the food.

"Better than going out and getting shot at."

"I hate getting shot at," I said, smiling. I remembered that line.

"Me too. Now come on, you need to get dressed."

I looked around. "I um, don't have any clothes now… they were there… but they went away…" _Okay, maybe house elves weren't all grand._

Tank was laughing. It was a deep rich sound that made me smile. I love people who laugh like that. "Ella was threatening to burn them. Said it looked like you'd been through a war zone."

"Really?" I tilted my head, trying to think back. "I was thinking it looked more like a double homicide." The jeans had been ripped, and the shirt had some blood stains, but no powder burns or shrapnel holes.

Tank disappeared for a moment, but returned with a familiar duffle bag in tow. Except now it was stuffed with clothing. Okay, I admit, I was instantly dying with curiosity. Who picked it out? What had they picked out? It was like shopping only better.

"Ranger sent me over this morning," Tank offered as I began pawing through the bag. Gotta love ESP.

"Thank you, Tank…" I trailed off, in mild shock at what was in the bag. Just normal t-shirts, some cargo jeans, a couple tank tops, and basic underwear. Comfy stuff in soft materials. I grinned and wished I was more limber. I could have jumped up and hugged him. "You deserve a ginormous hug. I'll have to give you a rain check till it doesn't hurt to breathe though. Hugging being a contact sport and all."

Tank smiled. "I'll hold you to it. You gonna need any help? Ella should be back pretty soon."

"No. I'll be out in a sec," I said, waving him out. For a guy that big he could move really quick.

I pulled on a pair of baggy jeans and a soft white tank top that was layered with a pink midriff shirt. Thanks to the bruising and a couple minor scratches I wasn't letting a bra anywhere near me for a while. The layering would help disguise any nipping out or so I hoped. I finished by tugging on the tennis shoes I'd been wearing which Ella had left by the closet… closet…

The Bat Closet. I was sliding the door back before I could tell myself not to. Oooh, stuff! Bat Stuff. Much with the black. A few shades of gray. A couple white shirts… lots and lots of black.

Am I sensing a theme? My list of evil things, sadly departed with the 'tubbied CR-V surfaced in my mind. Oh yeah, I still had to do that one…

Of course I could now scratch off number one- I'd learned how to shoot. And I'd accomplished number nine last night. A few times over. Which left me needing to find a computer and internet access sometime soon…

Contemplating the lovely mischief yet to be wreaked, I paused long enough to snitch one of the many black hoodies hanging up. It was chilly out from under that duvet. I paused one moment to consider my actions. I probably shouldn't… but I was a girl and it's a known fact that girls have the right to commandeer a guy's hoodies whenever they need them. Besides, the only other person with a possible hoodie would be Tank. I was swimming in Ranger's shirts, Tank's would drown me. And surely Ranger wouldn't want me drowning in pools of fabric.

I wandered out to find Tank relaxing on the sofa, idly flipping channels on the gigantic plasma TV. I hadn't noticed, but there was definitely a surround-sound system in place.

Geez, boys and their toys. He can be a superhero, a badass, whatever, but he'll still go nuts over gadgets. Of course Dad was the same- only his gadgets tended to be new horse training or rodeo or farm gadgets. I've heard someday they really do grow up. So far my bet was it happened somewhere around age 75.

I curled up on the big comfy chair and watched Tank and the TV with equal interest while I constructed my mental tangent. He seemed to take up most of the sofa.

It was a really big sofa.

"Have you and Ranger ever discussed Smurfs?"

Tank turned to stare at me, remote and television forgotten. "Smurfs?"

"Last night, when I asked you about why there's only one girl Smurf you said almost the same thing Ranger did." Tank smiled and had the grace to look a little chagrined before he shook his head and fixed me with a very curious look.

"What happened to you?"

"Huh?" I blinked, having totally lost the thread on that one.

"You used to be too nervous around me to say two words. Hell, you barely said more to Ranger."

"That was then?" I suggested, remembering it had sort of worked on Ranger. I hoped.

"So what's so different about now?" Tank's eyes were boring into me. _Hey, Janet, I thought he was supposed to just be muscle!_

"Um, I realized that I could at any moment be killed by a demented Teletubby or that malicious little Napoleon wannabe. And then it would suck if I'd just been too scared to get to know people. Because I'd be dead and I'd never know and that's a very depressing thought." I frowned just thinking about it. "And anyway, I just don't have the energy to get scared of y'all. But if you want I can cower and look all wide-eyed."

"No thanks," Tank smirked. "I get enough cowering and wide-eyed looks at work."

"Maybe if you quit throwing people through windows?"

"But I like throwing people through windows. It's what I'm good at." He smiled evilly. I just laughed at him, although an uncomfortable almost-pain in my ribcage stopped the giggles pretty quickly.

"Aw, that can't be all you're good at. What about Scrabble?"

Tank gave me a Look.

"Okay, how about just throwing people through tables? Maybe tossing around a few chairs?"

"And how exactly is that less scary than windows?" he asked.

"No broken glass noise. It's all about that noise and seeing the sparkly glass bits. It's a very powerful visual."

"Really? And I thought it was because of the body hitting the ground."

"Nah. Check it out in the movies. The body hitting is just anticlimactic. It's always that broken glass noise that gets people."

I ignored the surreal quality of the next few minutes as I debated the pros and cons of throwing people through windows with Tank, a guy who could crush me like a bug. By the time Ranger walked in we were shaking hands on a deal.

"Hey, Boss," Tank said, standing up.

"Hi, Ranger!"

"Tank." Ranger turned to me. "Babe, you aren't making any bets with him are you?"

"Nope. We're going to go see the next big action movie that comes out. I say it's the shattering noise that scares people, but he says it's the body hitting the ground."

Ranger gave us both a blank look. I wondered if I really wanted to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his. He looked at Tank and shook his head. "Don't give her any more ideas." I frowned, deciding a change of subject was in order.

"So, when did you guys talk about Smurfs?"

"You have a Smurf fixation," Tank sighed.

"I do not. You both gave the same answer. I want to know."

"No time, Babe. We have to head for the airport. Got a lead on Evelyn and Dotty."

I sighed. Fine, be that way. I could wait. I'm patient. Sort of.


	28. Chapter 29

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** Didn't do it. Wasn't me.

**Note:** Sorry this is short. Trying to work on my art project and using this as therapy for when I start to feel like throwing it out the window. Not at all the best chapter, but here it is. Blame my art teacher, I guess. Thank you all for your reviews. It's good to know people are finding this amusing. :)

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We made it all the way to the fourth floor before Ranger mentioned me wearing his sweatshirt. Well, okay, he didn't mention it out loud, but a significant look and the eyebrow lifting amounted to the same thing.

"I borrowed your shirt," I shrugged. "It was cold. I promise not to blow it up."

He laughed softly and brushed my cheek with his thumb. "Looks good on you."

I smiled and hoped I wasn't blushing.

Five minutes later I was hoisting myself into the spaceship-inspired interior of the Bat Truck. Boys and their toys… Further confirmation of that cowboy theory, I'm telling you. My dad would have turned green over this truck.

"How's your mental health?" Ranger asked. I tilted my head, wondering where that had come from. I guess I had been a little off last night…

"I'm better," I said honestly. "Daylight helps."

He smiled a little. "Yeah, it does."

I didn't want to ask any questions along that line, and I really didn't to hear any of the answers to the questions I could have asked. Instead I settled for relaxing back into the seat and enjoying the music he had going. It was rap of some description- I thought maybe Lil Jon and his crew, but I didn't follow the scene close enough to recognize groups much beyond Nelly, Usher, Ja Rule, you know the bigger ones. Except for..

"Hey, Ranger, you ever heard of Tech Nine?" I asked, suddenly curious. I doubted Janet could possibly have known of him, so he couldn't by any stretch have gotten into her story, right? So he shouldn't exist here…

Ranger actually looked away from the highway, his brows raised. "Yes."

"Do you have any of his CDs?" Okay, so maybe he was mentioned. Surely not enough to have his….

"Under your seat, in the black case."

Half in shock I reached down and yanked out one of those big black flip cases, filled with CD's. Wow. He took his music seriously. Or his image… Whichever. One and the same, sometimes. I leafed through until I caught sight of the CD: _Absolute Power_.

Now this was creepy. Tech was a local type rapper, hugely popular in the KC area. He hadn't really shown up on the national scene much… hell, he had lyrics specifically about the towns around KC MO… no way. The lyrics would be different or something. Had to be.

"Mind if I play this?" I asked, sliding out the CD. Ranger gave his minute little shrug. Geeze, saving energy today, I guess.

"Go ahead. Didn't know you liked rap, Babe," he remarked. I laughed. _Yeah, there's a lot you don't know soldier boy._

'Ladies and gentlemen let me welcome you to my… purgatory…'

I drifted off into the music, listening for any changes, but if there were any, they were too small for me to notice. I never was any good at music anyway. Notes, numbers… yeah. I can count, I can dance,just don't ask me to figure out half, whole, quarter notey thingies. But the lyrics were the same. As much as you could tell with Tech anyway. So this world went beyond whatever Janet knew?

Maybe it was a parallel universe. Mom had all sorts of books on that stuff. Supposedly there could be infinite universes all separated by like 7 degrees or something… or was that people's minds? Had to be universes, because I didn't see my mind being anywhere near that close to Abruzzi's. So maybe this was just a similar universe to Plum World? I mean it stands to reason that if you had infinite universes, there were infinite possible realities and infinite versions thereof right?

So how did I get here? To this one specifically, which contained apparently, elements from my world (Dad) and elements from Stephanie's (everything else)? How did I get back? And even if I could get back would it be the one I left behind or some other world? Would I wake up as Merry Gentry?

And where was Stephanie anyway? I bit my lip at that question. Honestly, I was adjusting to this place. Okay, it was weird and scary, and callous… but there were at least good people. Or semi-good, I amended with a quick glance at Ranger. Mostly good? Okay, Alyssa, you're rambling. Focus. No, not on Ranger's godly abs… Stephanie.

I still sort of had a feeling that maybe she and I had switched places. Or she was dead and I'd made some sort of bargain with some scatter-brained St. Peter person that I could get to live out the rest of my time as her. So how come the casting switch? I'd seen Frank Plum at the hospital when I woke up.

Another idea was surfacing in my brain but I wasn't sure I was happy about it. Let's not think of it then. Let's think about the scene at the airport. See if I can remember any helpful lines…

The airport went the way I expected, more or less. The only problem I ran into was when Evelyn actually talked about her experiences. When she said Abruzzi "did something," I almost lost it. The look on her face… I'd never seen anyone look like that.

I'd never dealt with rape. Not really. It's something they warn you about at school, or you see on TV. Sure, I knew it happened theoretically. I'd just never had to see anybody it actually happened to. If I had had any last small thoughts that Abruzzi was slightly human the look in Evelyn's eyes pretty much killed them. I was pretty sure I could pull a trigger on him now and not feel too bad about it.

"Good luck," I told her as they took off. I almost wished I was going with them.

As the group disappeared into the plane, a warm hand settled as the base of my neck. "They told you a sob story didn't they?"

I didn't turn, just nodded. Stephanie was supposed to be tough. The "something" wasn't supposed to bother her. I felt like screaming. When that happened, weren't you supposed to be able to go to the cops? Wasn't there supposed to be someone in a uniform to take the bad guy away?

My thoughts were back home, a home I'd probably never see again. I thought of our cops; of Chief and Jeb, Jerry and Sheriff Coon. Men I had known since before I could walk. Suddenly I missed living in a Mayberry world.

"Babe?"

Ranger would be laughing if he had a clue where my thoughts were at. Well, assuming he knew I wasn't Steph. Mayberry worlds didn't exist to him. I took a shaky breath and turned to him. "I remember they always told us, go to the police. They'll help you. The cops or the sheriff or… or you know, law enforcement. Guys with shiny badges," I frowned up at him, knowing I was probably asking something I didn't want the answer to. "What happened? Where are they?"

His face was typically unreadable. "Come on. We'll grab some lunch."

"I don't think I'm hungry."

"Babe," Ranger sighed and slung an arm around my shoulder to guide me outside.

For once I was glad I couldn't figure out the paragraph he managed to squeeze into that one syllable. I didn't want to know. I wanted the script and I wanted Mayberry. I wanted to be back in Steeleville for the summer, getting into silly scrapes with Monica and Caitlin. Maybe Chief or Jerry would bail us out like they usually did. Maybe we'd throw a party out in Headless Woman Woods.

I used to daydream about cruising the Caribbean with Captain Jack. What happened?

"Deep thoughts?" Ranger asked, surfacing from his zone. I smiled.

"Yeah." Wonder what he'd say if I told him about the endless summers I was remembering. Probably he'd just say nothing and do the little head-shake thing. "Just missing old friends."

Ranger looked at me curiously but he didn't say anything until we were seated in a small cafee with a definite Cuban atmosphere. "You need a new job," he said. I was pretty sure he was only half serious. "Maybe arranging flowers."

I made a face. "I suck at flower arrangements. I'm not actually good at much beyond dancing and acting. So I guess I just need to get tough."

His hand covered mine. "Don't rush into it."

I smiled at him. He really was sweet, in a severely understated way. He was sneaky sweet. "Um, is this where I cower and look afeared?"

He flashed the wolf grin. "That comes later."

"Rats," I tried to look disappointed. "And I've been practicing it with Tank. He can almost look at me cowering and not laugh. It's so hard to effectively cower. It's worse than 'being the tree.'" I made a face. I had always loathed that exercise What good is it to be a tree when no self-respecting tree would ever be onstage anyway?

"You worry me."

I smiled innocently. "And I haven't even revealed my plans to take over the world yet."

He didn't get a chance to not reply because the waitress showed up to ask for our orders. I just wanted something to drink until Ranger gave me one of his scary looks. I interpreted to mean_: 'Eat, or I find an IV.'_

It was a relatively silent meal. Suddenly conscious of my lack of appetite, I tried to demolish the salad. I gave up about two-thirds of the way through. I just couldn't do it. My brain kept going back to Evelyn and then death cooties, then to what was probably going to have to happen with Abruzzi. When we got back in the truck Ranger had me nailed in his crosshairs. Uh-oh. _Nobody expects the Cuban Inquisition… _

"You need to eat," he said as I was trying my best ignore the squicky feeling of upcoming speechifying.

"I eat."

Silence.

"I wasn't very hungry."

Ranger sat back and kept me locked in his sights. Oh boy, I didn't think I'd be winning this round. "Babe, your jeans are falling off you. And as cute as you are in my shirt, you look like a waif. People are thinking I kidnapped you." _It must really suck to have ESP sometimes_…I smiled in spite of myself.

"These are cargos. They're supposed to be baggy." I remembered snarking at Joe that his maternal instincts must have kicked in hard after thirty. Ranger was beginning to worry me. Maybe I'd been on to something… Eh. When in doubt, distract.

I smiled, unbuckling to slip across the seat and give him a hug. "Thanks, Ranger. I'll try to watch it a little more."

His arms came around me and somehow I ended up in his lap. Funny how that happens. I let myself be held and the back of my head whispered that actions always spoke louder than words. I wondered idly if Ranger even knew what he was saying. Then again, I didn't even know what I was saying. Something along the lines of, 'I'm not scared of you. Let's hug!' I guess… Great. I'm a Care Bear. I hoped I at least got to be the pink one. I liked Cheer Bear.

Ranger's hands were rubbing gently over my back and making a little harder to think. "How's the bruising?"

I blinked. Took my brain a moment to get organized. "It's okay," I said, pulling my head off his shoulder to look at him.

"Liar," his voice was quiet and very, very sexy. I wondered what phone sex with him would be like. Something to add to that list, right behind shower sex. I'm thinking about sex a lot lately…

Must be the stress.

"What are you thinking about?"

Hm, I could say 'nothing,' and leave it at that. But that wasn't fun. And maybe I could shock him…

"Wondering what phone sex would be like with you." I kept my face innocent and curious, as if this were simply a remark about the weather.

Ranger took in a deep breath. "Phone sex?"

"Yeah. You have a really nice voice."

His eyes were locked with mine now. "We have got to get you off those meds."

I eased myself off his lap and into the middle seat. "Why?"

"Because you're making it difficult for me to remember you're hurt."

"Hm. That is a dilemma…. Speaking of them," I put in, another thought occurring to me. Mainly the thought of the apartment. And where I should or would be staying tonight. Rex was still at Ranger's and Tank had packed me enough clothes for a week.

Ranger glanced at me, his eyes were already back on the road when he spoke. "There still isn't a security system at your apartment, Babe. I could send one of my guys around tomorrow."

"Um," I thought about it for roughly a millisecond. "I guess that's okay. I mean, it's not rude if I accept is it? Only it's going to take me days to get ahold of a security guy and I don't think it's a great idea to be in Fort Lockless with psycho Teletubbies blowing things up…"

"I'll send Hector tomorrow."

I really meant to ask him about where I'd be spending the night, but I liked the song that came on the radio and got sidetracked. I guess I fell asleep, because I don't remember if I heard the end of the song or not. Disappointing because I'd wanted to know what it was. It was fun and boppy. But the next thing I knew there was a hand settling on my shoulder and a someone asking me to wake up.

"I'm up," I protested around a yawn. Ranger's lips quirked. I stuck my tongue out at him and looked around. Oh, a garage. Lots of black vehicles… Wait a sec. This wasn't the Cameron parking garage. It was just a really big garage with lots of cars, like the one in _Sabrina_. No street entrance… just doors. That didn't look like they led onto a street.

Country lane, maybe. Or a driveway…

"Ranger, where are we?"

"Come on," he said, getting out. I debated staying put. This didn't look like it was attached to safe house. I was intrigued. Okay, curious, but intrigued had more dignity. Besides, I wasn't about to thieve Ranger's truck.

I got out slowly- my bruises were starting to hurt again. "This," I told him as I slammed the door and stalked toward him. "Is the last time I fall asleep with you driving. This is kidnapping."

"You know you love it, Babe." Ranger grinned. I contemplated kicking him in the shins. Yes, I know, I have a fixation, but it really helps. And it doesn't make them as mad as when you kick them in the balls. Plus you get the benefit of seeing a guy hop around. It's amusing. Amusing and relaxing. What could be better?

Instead, I rolled my eyes and let him lead me through a door and into a kitchen that would have made a great home for Wolfgang Puck.

"Ranger, again I ask, where are we?" I had an odd sensation that I knew the answer. Trepidation again. I was filled with trepidation.

"Welcome to the Bat Cave," he said softly in my ear, sending a small wave of lust through me. I turned to look up into his eyes, wetting my lips and watching his gaze darken considerably.

"I'm flattered. Thank you…." I shifted my weight forward and smiled. He leaned in for the kiss.

I pulled my foot back and kicked as hard as I could, nailing him on the shin. _Sucker._


	29. Chapter 30

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 30

Note: Don't hurt me. Please? Thank you all for the kind reviews of the last chapter. My ego may survive this semester after all. Hopefully y'all are still in a generous mood after this bit...

Disclaimer: Wasn't me.

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Ranger almost jumped back, the look on his face was priceless. Right before it turned into a freezing arctic scowl. "What was that for?"

I scowled right back at him. "What do you think it was for? It's for being an arrogant, pushy, Type-A brat!" I informed him, crossing my arms defensively. "And for your information, forever is an awfully long time. It's something you shouldn't spring on people."

His lips quirked. "Scared, Babe?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Bite me, Batman."

"Anytime," he said, stepping closer again. Uh-oh. Ever noticed that guys get suddenly bigger when they get closer and you'd prefer them to get farther? Maybe it's just me.

I took a step back and tried not to think about all the deliciously fun naked-type things his voice was suggesting. "Ranger, I'm serious…"

"So am I, Babe."

"About talking."

"Time for that later." He took another step forward. I had one more step and I'd be cornered. Crap. Time for panicking.

"Who says? I mean, I don't know what's going on here. You could go all- all…" _Wow, he smelled really good…_ "all weird and decide to disappear in the morning. Or you could have changed your mind… or not… and then this is forever or it's for the night or…"

"Shhh," he put a finger to my lips, effectively stopping the babbling. _Rats._ "Do you think I've changed my mind?"

"Doesn't look like it, no…"

He leaned closer, hands coming up to cup my face, keeping my chin tilted so that I had to look at him. His eyes were dark and serious, full of emotions I didn't know how to identify. "I told you, Babe. The Bat Cave is forever_." Don't make promises I can't keep, Ranger… _

_Oh, to hell with it. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may all be dead._ I really wished I could remember who said that.

I raised up on my toes and kissed him. Who cared if I might not be around forever? Who cared if I wasn't who he thought I was? I was being myself and he seemed happy with it even if he didn't have the right name. His hands traced down over my neck, my shoulders, my arms, before I finally pulled away. I had one more thing I wanted to make very clear.

"I didn't ask for you to do this, okay?"

"I know," his smile was faint, but warm. "I promise I'll make you hot chocolate later."

I stared at him a beat before I gave in to the laughter. I hadn't even really expected him to remember that, for some reason. "I love you," I giggled, sliding my arms around his neck.

"Love you too, Babe." The words were spoken so quietly I almost didn't hear them .But I did. The recognition sent a shock through me. Oh my god. Was that supposed to happen yet? Wait for it, there was a qualifier… 'in my own way' or something… right? Or 'no strings attached'?

Ranger didn't say anything else.

I bit my lip and turned my head to place a kiss by his ear. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

"So, um," I spoke softly, suddenly unsure of what to do. "Where are we exactly? I'm not good with directions…"

"I'll put it in your GPS."

"I'm not good with buttons." This brought a laugh from him, and his hand began sliding through my hair. Mmmm. That was going to put me back to sleep…

"There aren't any numbers involved," he offered.

"Great. One out of three… Higs, you really need to work on that tailoring the curriculum thing."

"I'll see what I can do. For right now, how about a tour?"_ How about you just keep playing with my hair… _

"Sounds good," I said, without moving. "I only have one concern."

"What's that?"

"Am I gonna need GPS for this too?"

"Probably just a map."

I sighed. How did I know? "All right, lead the way, Mr. Wayne…. Hey, does that mean you have an Alfred?"

Ranger smirked. "No. But there is a Tank."

"Well, that's probably a better investment anyway. So, anyone else live here?"

"My daughter sometimes comes up for holidays, and other family but mainly it's a bachelor pad."

Right. Bachelor Pad a la Bill Gates. The kitchen led into a formal dining room, and there was a parlor, a library, an informal parlor, and a foyer with a sweeping marble staircase. My inner Scarlett wept for joy. Just a small country cottage. If you were a Rockefeller.

I think I got hung up on the library and the staircase. I could have been happy with just that. I was still trying to get over them when he was talking about the other wing, the downstairs, and leading me through the upstairs.

"Ranger, when do I get that map?" _And how much did you pay the decorators? Yipes… _He turned and smiled at me, pausing by yet another doorway.

"After this." The door opened slowly and my jaw sort of hit the floor right in time with it. Big bed.

Really big bed.

Ginormous bed.

The room was beautifully decorated in an oriental style- not far to fall when you rolled out of the ginormous bed- in warm rich earth tones that wereechoed in the comforter of the really big bed…

I glanced at Ranger and back into the room. He was smiling and looking irritatingly amused. "Thought you might like it," he said.

I tried to be annoyed but gave up with a laugh. "I'm too predictable. I need to work on that."

Ranger's eyebrow lifted. "Right."

"I might start to bore you."

He shook his head. "Of all the things you might do, Babe, that isn't one of them."

I had a scathing reply on the tip of my tongue, but when I opened my mouth it just turned into a yawn. I hated it when that happened. "See, boring already," I sighed, gingerly touching the sore spots on my ribs.

"Your meds are in the bathroom," Ranger said, nodding toward a small doorway I hadn't noticed before, what with the bed and all.

Sure enough, there was the little bottle of magic happy sleepy pills right by the sink along with a glass I truly hoped was nothing more than glass. I picked them up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Eyes a little bluer than I remembered mine being looked back at me. Ranger was right, I realized as I looked at my cheekbones, I had dropped some weight. No more baby fat. Or rather, no more TastyKake fat.

On a whim I set down the pills and pulled off the sweatshirt. The bruises and small cuts on my arms were a little less noticeable but they were still there. I didn't want to know what my torso looked like. The hot pink thing layered over the white tank top blessedly hid the damage done by the seatbelt, but paired with the baggy cargos I did look a little like a street kid.

Well, pink was my color now, I better get used to it. Cheer Bear has always been pink. Maybe I could get a rainbow tattooed on my butt… I smiled and filed the idea away for future reference while I downed the medication.

I'd worry about it tomorrow.

"So, where am I sleeping?" I asked as I wandered back into the bedroom. Ranger gave me a tolerant look.

"Where do you want to sleep?"

Hm, safe answer, or bait him? Someday I probably would end up shipped to a third world country… I grinned and gave him a once over.

"Babe, behave."

I crinkled my nose. "I'm tired of behaving." He laughed and I pretended not to notice. "I don't have anything to sleep in."

The laughter stopped and it was my turn to get a once-over. "I don't mind."

"But I'm all… icky looking," I protested.

Ranger walked over and kissed my forehead. "You're beautiful."

I looked up at him, admittedly skeptical. About two-thirds of me was waiting for a punch line. I could take compliments just fine on a normal day, but I was dotted red, purple, black and, blue… "You're colorblind."

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"You wouldn't even notice if I was pink."

"Babe, there are several parts of you that are pink…" he said, his eyes flashing with an odd mix of amusement and lust. It seemed to be his usual state of affairs around me, when I could tell what state of affairs he was in.

And right now I was pretty sure my face was coloring pink. "I think I better go to bed now…"

"Sounds like a very good idea," Ranger's voice was deep and a little rough. I looked up at him just in time for his lips to meet mine. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I couldn't hold back a sigh. I didn't even notice where his hands were until my jeans fell off. Who knew Bruce Wayne had the fastest hands in the East?

By the time he was leaning me back onto the bed I was down to the tank top and panties and counting myself lucky he was showing some restraint. For about thirty seconds, then I was kind of wishing the restraint would go away. Instead the goal of the night was apparently to kiss me senseless.

It was working, but still. There are much more fun things to be done in large beds with Cuban Sex Gods…

I slid my hands under his shirt and raked my nails down his back. He pulled his mouth away from mine and rolled off of me, effectively ending that tactic. "Dio, Babe… no deseo lastimarle…"

"You won't," I told him, kissing his jaw, then trailing my lips down his neck.

"You won't notice," he groaned before he finally pulled me up to face him. "I won't risk it," he said gently. "Not ever."

I blinked at him, momentarily stunned. Guys turn down sex? But something in his eyes held my attention and somehow all the lust I'd been experiencing sort of… morphed. Into… something… I brushed my lips against his and laid my head on his shoulder, relaxing against him as his fingers began running through my hair.

"This is nice," my voice was quiet when I finally spoke. "More than nice. I like it here."

"Me too."

I closed my eyes and pushed away the Twilight Zone my life had become. So I was probably in love with a figment of my imagination. So what? It couldn't really go worse than my relationship with real guys could it? Whatever. I'd worry about it in the morning. I fell asleep listening to the steady beat of Rager's possibly-imagined heart.

"Wake up," Someone whispered.

My eyes slanted open and I blinked in the onslaught of light beaming through the windows. Wow, big windows… where was I? It took a moment for the night before to boot up.

Oh yeah. Bat Cave. Forever. No Sex. Bummer.

"I'm up," I yawned, turning over to look up into a pair of gorgeous Latino eyes.

"Prove it."

I glared half-heartedly, but I sat up, taking my time about it to let my muscles get used to the idea of moving. "See? Upness."

"Your bag is by the closet." Ranger pulled me to my feet and looked me over carefully. The tank had ridden up at some point to reveal my ribs and its scoop neck didn't do anything to cover up my seat belt bruise. "They look better."

I just nodded, attempting a smile before I made my way over to the bag to start sorting through it. I was already sick of being bruised and sore and medicated. One day was enough. I wondered what Ranger's secret was. Maybe he wasn't Bat Man after all. Maybe he was Super Man.

I slipped on a three-quarter length tee and a pair of soft drawstring khakis. I was going to have to go clothes shopping. Everything had gone from causing a roll to almost falling off. I really needed to try to eat more or something. My dance coach would kill me for dropping so much weight so fast.

Except I didn't have a dance coach anymore; I just had Mac. And Ranger. And Lula, Tank, Jack… I smiled. One of those trade-offs they used to harp about in Life Skills class. Right before they taught us other useful things like how to decide if you were ready for parenthood or how to read a blue print for a dream house you'd probably never be rich enough to build.

I figured the blue print thing was most useful. I didn't know anyone who'd ever decided they were ready to have a baby. Usually someone just forgot a pill or broke a condom. Or pulled a stupid and didn't use a…

Uh-oh.

I froze halfway down the sweeping marble staircase.

Condom. Pill. Birth control? Well, no place like right here to have a Scarlett moment. I gently sank into a sitting position, staring down at the marble without seeing it. Did Stephanie use the pill? Or did she get a depo shot? Cause I hadn't taken any pills… and I knew Ranger hadn't been wearing… I was shaking.

Oh my freaking god. I might have just gotten someone else pregnant… I choked on a laugh, and wondered if I'd be going hysterical soon. Hysterics certainly didn't seem like overkill at a time like this.

Okay, don't panic. Deep breaths. Calming light. Visualize it…. See it… One step at a time. I hadn't seen any birth control pills laying around but then hadn't some of Stephanie's stuff been at Morelli's?

I used the banister to pull myself up and leaned on it until I got to the bottom. How could I have been so stupid? Hey, don't do this, Alyssa. Tons of girls your age make this mistake. Maybe she's on the shot. Maybe this is all a figment of your imagination. Don't panic when you only have half the info… and it may not even be real. Yeah, it wasn't real... that was a good theory. Unless it was real.

My feet remembered the way through the house better than my head did, although it might have just been coincidence. Either way, I found myself standing in the kitchen, looking at Ranger's gorgeous backside. He was wearing jeans. Blue jeans. Wonders might never cease… and a black shirt. Wonders, not miracles here people…

I swallowed, and my stomach did a nervous little twitch.

"About time, Babe," Ranger said, turning around. "What do you want?"

"You cook?" I asked, delaying the inevitable. He smirked.

"A little… you look like it's about to cause the end of the world."

I laughed. "No, no. It's a surprise. Didn't know badass army guys cooked."

He shook his head, then frowned. "What's wrong?"

Choice time, Alyssa. Keep it to yourself or share the wealth… nothing good comes from keeping secrets. Communication is the key, right? _And he has ESP anyway._

"Umm." I bit my lip and took a deep breath. This was probably going to get really fragging ugly. "I just have, um, a question…"

Ranger's eyes were assessing. "About?"

"Um, the other night. When we… were together," I couldn't for the life of my say sex and 'making love' sounded sickeningly sappy, "Did you— crap. Look, were you wearing a condom? Because I just realized I missed my pill and…"

Ranger looked like I just nailed him between the eyes with a stun gun. "Babe? You're joking."

"Um, no. Not really…" I frowned, suddenly irritated. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

He shook his head. "Dio," Ranger breathed, adding a few words I didn't really recognize. But I got the gist.

"Yeah. I second that." Feeling drained I dropped into one of the expensive-looking kitchen chairs. "I swear if this week gets any weirder I'm moving to Italy."

"What are you going to do?" Ranger asked. I guessed he wasn't asking about Italy.

_Throw myself off a bridge? No, better not say that. I'll get locked in the east wing or something. _

"Pray. Buy a pregnancy test. Call Lula. Take the pregnancy test. Pray. Sacrifice a chicken. Read the test. Buy stock in Ben and Jerry's. Call you." I sighed and closed my eyes. _Was it really worth chewing through the leather straps today? _

There was silence for a while.

"So, is Hector going to be able to put in the security system today?" I asked, deciding that distraction might actually be the better part of valor this morning.

"Yeah. I'll drop you off there this afternoon…" He paused and I felt more than heard him come to stand behind me. His hand brushed the hair away from my face as he came around to sit in the chair next to mine, turning to he was facing me. "We've got a job that's going to run late."

"That's cool. I should probably go chase Bender or something anyway." _Except I think he's already dead…_

"I'll be at your place at six. I'll bring dinner."

"Sounds good, Higs." My voice sounded hollow and flat even in my own ears, but I just didn't feel up to hiding it. This was just so stupid and awkward and… _I hate you Janet. This is probably some stupid revenge for me being me._

Ranger pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. "Whatever happens, is for a reason, querida."

I stayed quiet and simply nodded. I didn't know who he was trying to reassure. And I kind of wanted him to go back to being odd, sneaky sweet Ranger. Overtly sweet Ranger was great but I wasn't sure what to do with him.


	30. Chapter 31

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 31

**Disclaimer:** Janet's going to kill me anyway. But this is hers. I'm playing Pirate. But I'm not making any money. So there.

**Note:** Thank you so much, everyone. I'm sorry I didn't get the time to thank everyone individually, but I hope you like this chapter enough to take it as an apology. All your feedback is very, very appreciated.

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Ranger really could cook. I was beginning to think maybe I really had made him up. He was just too perfect. Except for that unfortunate Type-A brat side. But I guess being CEO or whatnot might cause that…

I ate almost the whole omelet. I also decided to pretend I hadn't noticed him keeping an eye on me like he was expecting me to scrape half of it off to the dog. Since he didn't have a dog as far as I knew, I didn't understand the fascination.

"So, do you have pets?" I asked afterward, as I stirred a healthy amount of cream into my coffee. _Alas, wherefore art thou caramel macchiato, in this mine hour of need?_ I was aiming now for small talk. Not that Ranger was the small talk type, but if I was possibly pregnant by him, I figured it might be a good idea to find out a few things. Age, point of origin, religious affiliation, number of ex-wives. That sort of thing.

He moved his head an infinitesimal amount to the right. Guess that was a no.

"How about a private arsenal?" Aha, now I had his attention. His eyes were staring straight at me, the mug of tea half-way to his lips, now totally forgotten. _If he'd just do the pinky thing.__ Just once…_

"Babe?"

"Aren't you a gun runner or something? Or mercenary? People keep talking about you keeping small third-world countries secure."

Heh, a part of me had to appreciate this moment. I was sitting here over coffee with a guy who looked like he might be due at a GQ cover shoot later, in a flat-out, old-school East Coast mansion talking about nefarious things. Oh yeah, and I could be pregnant by him… Peachy keen way to start the day. If only there was an iced caramel coffee drink to top it off. Or a shot of Jagermeister.

Ranger sighed. "RangeMan is a private military contractor. We mainly do consulting work." I looked at him, carefully weighing my next question.

"No gunrunning?"

"Babe." He shook his head again, looking resigned. I grinned and took a sip of my coffee.

"Sorry. But you do look like you could if you wanted to. I think it's all the black. Which, by the way, is that for a reason? One of my ex-es always wore black and stuff because he was super colorblind."

Ranger gave me a Look that spoke of getting shipped to the aforementioned economically disadvantaged foreign states. I rolled my eyes.

"You aren't sending me to a third world jungle. What would you do for entertainment? You'd be coming to get me in two days because you'd be dying of boredom."

"I never said anything about sending you anywhere," he smiled and looked amused.

"Oh. Well maybe it was someone else. Something about in a box of car parts? Are you sure you didn't say that? You should. It would definitely scare the daylights out of someone."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You could use it at the next board meeting."

He sat back, laughing as if this were a brilliant idea. I considered the meetings we had in the AMA and decided it might be. That was one thing I'd always dreaded- meetings. With that book of rules and all the secondings and procedures. Generally it gave me the urge to claw someone's eyes out.

Ranger disappeared to go get suited up, leaving me in the den with the massive plasma tv and a remote that should have been able to activate missile silos, NASA launch codes, and spy satellites, but which I had difficulty changing the channel with.

To my everlasting horror I was stuck on a channel airing The Swan when he walked in. Ranger glanced at me, but apparently decided not to comment. I didn't let him.

"I think I just launched a lunar module, but the channel wouldn't move."

"Maybe we should put OnStar in your car instead…" he said, with a hint of a smile as he handed me a set of keys that looked a lot like the ones I'd had for the last CR-V. I laughed

"That's a better idea. They talk to you right? Talking cars are cool."

I paid attention to the ride back to the apartment, but I had no landmarks until we were almost there. I did find out Ranger's house was in an area of other large, stately estates that looked nothing like anything I'd seen so far in this place. His neighborhood came with walls, gates, manicured lawns, gardeners for the lawns, maids, and limos.

It would have been a hell of a place to throw a kegger.

Hector met us at Stephanie's apartment and showed me the numbers to punch into the keypad. Great, numbers AND buttons and I was getting the instructions via a ghetto-ized garble of Mexican Spanish. My years of classroom Spanish would get me through Spain, Puerto Rico, and maybe some parts of South America but It had its limits. Generally speaking those limits were located around thesouthern bank of the Rio Grande.

I sighed and asked him to go slower, so I managed to catch the gist. Hit the numbers, check the light, enter or run screaming. Got it. I'd figure out the rest later.

Hector disappeared, and Ranger stepped closer to lean down and put his lips on mine. He tasted warm and herbal and the solid feel of his body pressing me back against the wall just about killed me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and returned the kiss.

Finally he stepped away, his eyes dark and blazing with heat. Oh yeah, he wanted me. He wanted me bad. I'd have gloated but the feeling was mutual to a terrifying extent.

And then he was gone. I sighed and turned my head to look into the apartment. I immediately focused on the formerly welcoming and comfy couch. Alas poor couch, I knew it not at all…

Blech, death cooties. Just looking at it gave me creepy-crawlies. I eyed it cautiously, running over my options in my head. Steven Soder's dead body had been duck taped together and sitting there. I shook my head in defeat. I was pretty sure no amount of white sage, cleansing rituals, or metaphysical rites of any kind would get rid of death cooties. Ditto for Lysol. It only left one option: The couch had to go.

I frowned and turned my attention to the rest of the place. It was clean, nothing really looked like it had been disturbed. That only left the problem of getting rid of the icky feeling creeping over my skin from just standing here.

I dug through the big ugly Coach purse until I found a pair of convenient latex gloves and set to work, thankful that my pain medication was still going strong so this wasn't going to hurt nearly as much as it should. I kicked a couple books that had been underneath it out of the way. I didn't know if death cooties would count on books but I wasn't taking chances. Several minutes later I had maneuvered the infested furniture into the hallway. _I'm Super Girl and I'm here to save the world... _my own stomach rumbled. Whoops, guess it had been awhile since I ate anything.

I opened the fridge, only to find that it was ominously empty. Well, not really. I had some yogurt, fruits, veggies, salad stuff... but tonight was not a night for healthy. Tonight was night for... a package of chocolate chip cookie dough sitting in the freezer, just gathering ice crystals. Hey, eating healthy is great, but when you're facing down death cooties, you need that surge only chocolate can provide. I rummaged around to find a baking sheet and put the cookies in to bake. Ah, the miracles of the modern age.

While the cookies baked I set to work on cleansing her/my/our/the apartment (it was getting hard to figure out which to call it lately). After all the shooting and strange going on and intense emotion it was a small wonder there weren't demons lurking. I shuddered just thinking about it and offered a quick prayer that Janet was not considering some sort of _Charmed_ homage.

A quick ransacking of the kitchen revealed the girl had no helpful herbs or spices, and I knew she wouldn't have a quartz crystal anywhere around. Damn it. Weirdo normal people, not keeping a fully stocked arsenal of useful home remedies and ridiculously expensive New Age goodies. I glared at the useless cabinets and wished for my mom.

The only thing vaguely useful was a carton of salt and a bunch of candles that had enough dust on them I had to wonder if they'd been through Stephanie's divorce with her. I considered pouring a trail of salt through the apartment, but decided it probably wasn't worth the mess. Ditto for pouring it in a circle around the couch's former position in the living room.

I glanced from the salt to the door. Back at the salt. Door. Salt. I took a deep breath and prayed the neighbors were asleep or something_. This is for you, Mom..._ I grabbed the salt and poked my head out. All clear. I poured a line of salt across the doorway then pulled my head back in and locked the door.

I looked down at the Morton's iodized salt label in wonder. I really did feel more secure. Huh. Salt… and chocolate chip cookies. Mmm, they smelled heavenly. I opened the oven and peeked in, but they didn't look done. Rats.

I wandered into the bedroom and picked up a bunch of Stephanie's extra throw pillows, hauling them into the living room. Al fresco TV. Or something like that. Maybe I could find some beaded curtains and mosquito netting… I plopped down on the pile of pillows and flipped on the teev. Who knew, there might be something worth watching.

The cookies were done before I found anything. I set them out of a towel to cool. Rex had paused by his water dish to give me a very weird look. I almost felt like he was asking 'All right, lady. Who are you and where's my mom?'

I sighed and dropped a raisin into his cage. "Think of me as a foster mom, Hamtaro," I told him. "I'm beginning to think that this might be a permanent arrangement," I added wistfully.

Rex wisely said nothing, choosing to stuff his mouth full of raisin and retreat to his soup can. Discretion is the better part of valor, even for hamsters, I guessed. I watched his furry little butt wiggle happily for a moment. He really needed a better home. I was going to have to get him one, as soon as this business with Napoleon Dynamite was over.

Yeah, that might get me his affections. _Crap, I'm bribing the rodent. _I grimaced and grabbed a still-warm cookie, playing hot potato with it as I walked back to the bedroom and crossed quickly to the windows. I didn't have any milk and honey, so this was just going to have to do for a quick bribe to any wandering good spirits. If a place like this had any good spirits. Looking out at the uninspiring sight of Trenton by street lamp and moonlight I had my doubts. A pang of homesickness went through me as I thought of dad's ranch out in Oklahoma. My bedroom there looked out on a barren prairie, but at least there was a sky glittering with stars. There weren't any stars here. Just lights and high rises and more lights. I could make out the moon but that was about it.

I bit my lip and forced myself back down to earth as I placed the cookie on the windowsill and whispered a quick plea for help. A last, rueful glance up at the blank sky and I closed the window, quickly pulling the shade down. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the chorus of old country songs playing faintly in the back of my mind. _Here the city lights out shine the moon/ I was just thinking of you …_ _You're the reason God made Oklahoma... _Shut up, I thought at them fiercely. I don't have the energy for this.

Hey, at least I had my Dad back. I still hadn't figured that out. But if this was just my hallucination, I guess it figured. I mean, might as well have my own freakish parents instead of someone else's. And I'd probably kept Stephanie's mom because I had never had a stepmom longer than about ten minutes, so might as well.

I grimaced, feeling the beginning of a migraine looming ahead.

This didn't make sense. None of it. It didn't make sense that I looked more and more like myself when I looked in the mirror and now my dad was my dad and her mother was my stepmother and no one seemed to notice the casting change but me.

Unless this was my hallucination, but honestly that didn't follow either. I had a great imagination, but it would never be able to come up with this much detail for this long. And wouldn't I have woken up by now?

The migraine crept closer.

Now, if I was a scientific person, I'd have some great process to test the theory forming in my head. I mean, I kept trying to turn the plot on its ear, but it kept turning back over. It was like a Bobo doll. Punch it and it pops back up. Punch it again. It still comes back. I hadn't gone after Evelyn, but Abruzzi was still after me. I hadn't turned to Morelli or called him and we still wound up fighting tooth and nail. I hadn't gone after Bender and that CR-V still got stolen. I grabbed a cookie and hopped up on the kitchen counter.

_Think, think, think…_ I resisted the urge to tap my head like Pooh Bear. Okay, take this one step at a time. You fell down the stairs and woke up here. You changed what was happening. You started to look like you. You cause a major hitch in the plot and your dad showed up….

So maybe it wasn't exactly a Bobo thing after all.

I finished the cookie and grabbed another one. This was getting me nowhere. Well, it was getting me somewhere but it was agonizingly slow getting there. Wherever there was. To tell the truth, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go there. If there was where I was beginning to think it might be, I really would have felt infinitely more comfortable just being insane.

I jumped off the counter and headed into the living room, deciding it was time to pick up a little.

The debris was just a couple TastyKake wrappers, a small sachet bag and a couple books. The wrappers I trashed then I sat looking at the books and sachet. They hadn't actually been touching the couch. They should be safe. I picked up the sachet, sniffed and crinkled my nose. Eeew. Smelled like a luck charm, old-school voodoo style. Which meant it probably involved dreadful icky unmentionable things. Chicken blood, hair, toenails. Give me Sangria any day… okay, most Sangria. There's some of that that gets a little wonky too. Then again, most religions have their wonky branches. Some have human sacrifice, some have mass suicide, some like to have naked sex under a full moon. It just depends on your flavor of wonky.

I considered throwing the charm away but a lifetime spent with New Age gurus, Voodoo queens, hippies, and high priestesses had sort of ingrained a few things. I very respectfully put it under the cabinet under the sink and made a mental note to never ever open that cabinet again.

I was about to get back to the books when I heard a pounding at the door.

"Stephanie!" yelled an annoying, pissy male voice. "I know you're in there. Get your ass out here, you have a job to do!"

I bit my lip and wondered whether the stun gun in the big ugly Coach purse worked on weasels. "Just a second Vinnie."

I opened the door reluctantly and he stuck his foot in almost as if it was reflex. I guess lots of people didn't want to open their door to Vinnie. He opened his mouth, then shut it. "Jeez, you've dropped some poundage. You on some new diet? You oughtta share it with Lula-"

"Vinnie," I said, trying not to growl through my teeth. "Why are you here?"

"You ain't gone anorexic have you? Your mom'll kill me. Worse, she'll sic your Granny on me…"

I smiled at that idea. I'd have to try that tactic sometime. "Your reason for being here?"

"We're going after Bender."

"We, kemosabi?"

Vinnie sneered. "Yeah, unless you want to find another job." I sighed.

"Peachy keen. Let me get my gun and such." I left him where he was and grabbed my new keypad, the keys to the new CR-V, and the Purse from the Black Lagoon. As an afterthought I snagged a hoodie- never know what the weather might do. It was a leftover habit from the Midwest probably.

"What the hell is on your doorjamb? White shit…"

"Crack cocaine and heroin. I like to keep it sprinkled around, to attract new and different breeds of crazies."

Vinnie gaped at me. "You're screwed up." I raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really want to get into a contest of who's the weirder, _cousin_? I could always plead genetics."

He was silent for a moment. "You might have a point with that one."

I felt a rush of happiness that I knew nothing about the Plum family tree.

I climbed into Vinnie's massive H2 and tried desperately not to think the word 'compensation.' Instead I tried to focus on the radio which was blaring out some convoluted conservative talk show. The kind that would have been hilarious if they' hadn't been so serious. I glanced at Vinnie and couldn't tell if he was agreeing with them or seeing the humor in it.

Hard to tell with other species. Wonder what his parents looked like?

I had almost distracted myself when the green SUV pulled up alongside us. I turned when I realized they were getting stupidly close and promptly felt everything in my stomach trying to make an emergency escape through my throat.

The SUV was being driven by a large bear.

"Vinnie, go faster!" My voice was tight with rising panic. "It's the bear!" I looked around hoping for… something, but we were somewhere that seemed to be mostly made up of abandoned warehouses.

"Fuck. Of all the fucking…"

The bear turned it's happy, smiling cartoon button eyes to me, raised it's paw and waved. Then the paw came off and it made the international sign for a gun, aiming it at me.

The terror flowing through me instantly froze. I was being taunted by a fucking bear. A low-life, brandless teddy bear. Damn it, I don't have to take this. I'm a Care Bear. I'm better than that. And I was not going to go through another damned car wreck.

I rolled down the window. Vinnie was speeding up but the bear was keeping pace. Of course it was, it wasn't in a freaking H2… That's okay. I could handle this.

I raised my real gun and pointed it back at the Bear, an unpleasant smile curling my lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vinnie yelled.

"Going bear hunting with a stick," I muttered. The bear had seen the gun, I knew because the SUV made a sudden lurch to the right, away from the H2, and sped up. I leaned out the window and fired. We were in the projects anyway, might as well act local.

"Faster, Vinnie!" I yelled, still trying to keep my balance and aim at the same time.

"You're fucking crazy! Stop it! Get the--- holy shit!"

Ahead of us the SUV exploded into flamed. I fell back inside the H2.

"Fuck, we're getting the hell out of here…" He spun the H2 around, tires squealing as we flew away from the scene. "You had to hit the god damned gas tank, Stephanie? What the hell, do you think you're the Terminator? Jesus Christ…"

Whoops. Gas tank. Didn't know you could do that.

Vinnie dropped me off, still muttering curses and looking ready to have a coronary at any moment. But I noticed he hadn't threatened to fire me. Probably that would come in the morning.

I walked up to the apartment and stared at the door. There wasn't a light, so I guessed security was still secure. I hit the code and unlocked the door, leaving it open while I retrieved the salt and fixed the line Vinnie's shoe had smudged.

I was pretty sure I'd just killed someone. Well, a bear. I killed a bear. Dad would be thrilled. He'd want me to go with him to Canada on his next hunting trip. Too bad I'd exploded the bear…

I didn't know you could hit the gas tank. Maybe something ricocheted. Maybe it was going to blow up anyway. Abruzzi could have been sending a Bear-gram. Sure.

I laid the gun and gunbelt down in the living room before I did a belly flop onto the mound of pillows and wallowed around until I was comfy. Take me away, TV Land. There was a Bewitched marathon on.

I was zoned so far into the vapidness that I didn't even hear Ranger come in. If I ever heard Ranger at all.

"Babe?" his voice drifted in as he walked through the kitchen I blinked, tearing myself away from Endora insulting Darrin yet again to look at him.

"Hey, Higgins. Grab some pillow."

"Your couch is in the hall," he said, pausing just outside the living room.

"It has death cooties," I explained.

"And there's a bunch of salt outside your door."

"It's a protection against icky things. And it's cleansing."

"You made cookies."

"Chocolate defeats death cooties."

Ranger took a deep breath and stayed quiet for a beat. "I knew there was a reasonable explanation."

I laughed and looked back at the television. "How was your take down?" I asked as he settled onto a pillow next to me. The smell of pizza wafted past my nose. "Dinner?"

"Pino's," he said, pushing the box toward me. "Cheese with extra sauce." Hey, as long as it wasn't Domino's it worked for me. I'd had so much of it Freshman year I still got sick just seeing a Domino's ad… hey, hang on a second…

"You remembered my order at Shorty's," I wondered out loud. He didn't get much of a chance to reply because I had to sit up and hug him for the effort. "You're the best."

"You're easy to please."

"Only in some areas," I said with a smirk before I disengaged and attacked the pizza box.

"I don't know. I don't remember having much of a problem in a few other areas…"

I coughed and rolled my eyes. "You are such a guy."

Then the sight of warm, gooey, yummy, cheesy, pizza filled my vision.I took a bite and sighed happily. Pino's was damned good. It wasn't Royal Inn, but… mmm, it was close. I wondered if they made gyros.

"So, how did your take-down go?" I asked again, when the first heavenly mouthful was gone.

"Not bad. The guy didn't have as much hardware as we thought he did." I thought about that for a second.

"I'm so glad I don't have your cases."

"Someday."

"I'll retire to a cave in Greece and become a New Age author and spiritual guru before that happens."

Ranger looked as if he was torn between smirking or worrying. "Anything exciting happen to you?"

I finished my pizza before I answered him. "I blew up a car." He smiled, a full 200-watts.

"Babe, the CR-V's still in the lot."

"Yeah, not that car…" I took a deep breath. "Vinnie came by and made me go Bender-chasing with him. So I took my gun and all… then this SUV pulls up when we were in this warehouse district and it was the guy in the bear suit. He made a gun sign and pointed it at me. So I pulled out my gun and pointed it back at him. He sped up to get away and I…um…" I glanced back at Ranger sheepishly. "I shot at the SUV. And it blew up."

"Babe," he laughed softly as he pulled me toward him.

"I don't think anybody saw it, but…"

"Vinnie's father-in-law can handle anything that comes up."

Oh yeah, Harry the Hammer. "He wouldn't… um, handle me or Vinnie would he?"

"No."

Good enough. "Vinnie's still going to fire me when he calms down enough to think about it," I sighed.

"Worry about Vinnie later, Babe."

We fell into silence as we finished the pizza, while Endora, Darrin, and Samantha continued their usual antics. I picked up the almost- empty box and tossed it into the trash along with Ranger's empty water bottle and my own empty can of Coke.

I walked back to the living room, stifling a yawn. "Hey, Ranger, I hate to sound like old and decrepit but I think I need to get some rest… "

He nodded and stood up. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

"What?" I stared at him as I attempted to puzzle out the question. "Well, um… I don't really…"

"Even with the security system, this isn't the safest place for you," he said softly. He was standing close to me now, and his hand brushed the side of my face.

"So where is there a safer one?" I asked. I might give in, but he was going to have to work for it.

His lips quirked in that barely there smile. "With me." I smiled and leaned into his hand.

"I'm not sure that's exactly safer, Ranger."

His smile widened into the smoldering, predatory wolf grin. "Probably right, Babe. But I know a great spot for hot chocolate."

"Throw in marshmallows and it's a deal."


	31. Chapter 32

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 32

The male is a domestic animal which, if treated with firmness and kindness, can be trained to do most things." **Jilly**** Cooper**

**Note:** I'm a slave to feedback. I need therapy. As if this story weren't proof of that one… This is just fluff. No real story in here. Just kind of an homage to some of the conventions of plumfic...

CSI Queeen: Thank you, you make me blush! I have written scenes of her keeping up the dancing but I alwaysend up editingthem out. She'll get back to dancing, but for now she has other things to worry about.

Nathan's Raven: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the rest of the twists and turns just as much.

**Disclaimer:** I didn't do it! I swear. It was the monkeys.

**00000000000000000000000000000000**

All right, so I caved. Pun intended. I'm a stubborn, scatter-brained drama queen, not stupid. What else could a girl do? Ranger was standing there, the promise of so much fun glittering in those smoking dark eyes. The naked kind of fun, as well as the fun of demystifying the Mysterious Manoso. The fun of teasing him to see what his reaction would be.

He had a great sense of humor, when I could get him to show it. Problem was I couldn't always tell if he was joking. And I had a sense that a lot of the time he was behind the Bat Mask laughing his ass off. I could appreciate that. I was doing something similar lately.

I felt a momentary twinge of guilt as I looked over at him. He was lost in his driving zone, being at one with his inner NASCAR racer. The guilt wasn't really Ranger-related though. It was the Morelli Guilt creeping back in. Great, it had even acquired capital letters now…

I had hurt Joe, a lot. More than I'd realized. It had been necessary though- it would have hurt him a lot more for me to pretend to want to continue on dating him but it still made me feel bad. He was gorgeous, decent, stable- he just wasn't my type. He was a norm.

Probably he would have had some serious issues about me scattering salt everywhere or chucking out a cootie-contaminated sofa. He would definitely have been unhappy about the bear exploding, in a very loud way. And anyway, I knew what would have happened with Joe if I dated him.

It would have been Chris all over again. Me being desperately bored, too afraid of being a bad person to just drop him, secretly hoping he would do something- anything- to let me off the hook. Chris had been an okay guy too. He'd been normal, reliable, nice. Come to think of it, he'd even been a criminal justice major.

Maybe I had a type of doomed fixation on law enforcement types.

Anyway, why the hell was I thinking about Joe? So what if I'd dumped him like forty-eight hours ago and was already staying with Ranger and possibly pregnant by him. These things happen.

On Jerry Springer.

At least Joe and Ranger weren't cousins or something. That would have been Springer-riffic. No, dumping the cop for the CEO of Mercenaries Incorporated was much more HBO. I could handle HBO. And it had its late night Cinemax moments. Of course if you added in that I was having some sort of body-switching, parallel universe, logic-defying identity crisis maybe it was sort of Sci-fi Channel or Showtime Beyond…

"Deep thoughts, Babe?"

"Trying to figure out which channel should be airing the messed up tv show that should be made out of my life."

"Maybe you should hire an agent."

"Nah, no one would watch it. It's too unbelievable." Ranger glanced over at me, smiling.

"You're probably right."

"Thanks. You're sooo encouraging, Higgs."

I relaxed back into the seat of the Porsche, listening to the classical music. That was another oddity. Ranger, aka Rambo, bad ass man in black, listened to classical music. I had known, theoretically, that he did because it mentioned it in that one book where they rescued Mooner and Dougie from the Grandmama Mafia but to actually be confronted with it was odd. Of course, he was supposed to be a fictional character, so just the fact I'd been hanging out with him (let alone sleeping with him) was weird, but I'd gotten over that sort of weird now.

Brahms on the other hand, was a new and intriguing weird. I sort of understood why Stephanie had that theory about there being twin Rangers. One who wore Armani, liked the classics, lived in a mansion, and had board meetings and investment brokers and cashmere sweaters and Italian shoes. The other one took out bad guys, got pissed off when he got shot, hung out in the ghettos and just generally scared the bejeezus out of any sane human. Good thing I wasn't exactly sane.

Unless that theory I had in the back of my mind was valid. It almost made the insanity plea sound like a good idea, though. That couldn't be a good sign although I was cynical enough to think maybe that gave it another ounce of credibility. Generally I'd come to the conclusion that nothing was real unless you sort of wished it wouldn't be.

Janet, if you ever let me out of here, I swear I will be sending you to that third world country. Right after I throw you in a duck pond.

We drove through a large wrought iron gate that closed behind us, and up a driveway to the huge stone mansion. There were lights scattered around it, presumably for security reasons, the beams shining up the rough gray walls, glinting off windows or casting odd shadows. This house warned you not to screw with it, not to look too closely at the cellars and maybe, just maybe, it might let you stay to enjoy the party.

Wayne Manor didn't have a thing on Ranger's digs.

We parked out front this time, and I got the proper effect as Ranger opened the door for me. I stepped inside to see the sweeping marble stair, the gleaming polished floors, the intricate woodwork... To hell with Wayne Manor, this place could have blown Tara out of the water.

"Glad you like it, Babe." Ranger's breath was warm as he whispered into my ear, sending a shiver through me as I leaned back into him, closer to that calm aura that surrounded him.

"I love it. Not exactly the roots and tree bark existence I had you pegged for though. I'd pictured you in something terrifyingly modern and minimalist. Military chic."

He smiled as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and pressed a single, soft kiss into the curve of my neck. I was pretty sure my knees wobbled.

The things he could do with his lips…

I turned to look at him, the better to get a look at that gorgeous face and a better chance at exploring those lips a little more… His face was chiseled, all angles and seriousness, with the square jaw and the almost arrogant cheekbones, adding in his dark latino eyes that could be either so cold or so scorching hot and he looked like he had seen the darker side. Hell, he looked like he belonged to the darker side and I was not thinking about his skin tone. That just enhanced the effect, added a little more exotic to his otherwise Anglo features.

I wondered if his mom was a Russian princess or something. Maybe Anastasia took a Cuban vacation.

"You are so perfect it sucks, are you aware of that?"

His eyes widened. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment?"

"Yes, and no." I shook my head, despairing at ever having any control over my mouth and its desire for speaking. "You're just… a riddle wrapped inside an enigma. Whoever said that must have known you."

"Two way street, Babe," he said gently.

"But I'm a girl. I'm supposed to be like that. You're a guy."

His lips turned upward. "You're cute when you're confused."

"You must think I'm cute like twenty-four/seven, then." _Especially for the last week or so._

"I think you're beautiful," he corrected, pulling me closer. "You confuse me too," he added, looking down at me. His eyes were admiring, but assessing. So this is how the Mona Lisa feels… if, you know, she was in the arms of a gorgeous, dangerous, Rambo-type instead of hanging on some boring old wall in the Louvre with a bored security guard.

On second thought, it must really suck to be the Mona Lisa.

Being close to Ranger was intoxicating, but as I slid my arms around his waist I noticed something. And then another something. I moved my hands up. Yep, there was another something altogether… I raised a quizzical brow.

"Damn, Higgs, expecting company tonight? Of the large, heavily armed variety?"

"Pays to be careful," he said, before he stopped any further questions with a very, very erotic kiss. I parted my lips and let his tongue sweep into my mouth, as his hands pulled my hips firmly against his.

"Ranger!" The deep voice shocked me into breaking the kiss and I would have turned to look except that someone had arms like freakin' steel and was apparently determined for me to remain where I was…

Instead I settled for turning my head to see Tank taking up most of the very wide entry hall, his arms crossed and his face split in a wide grin. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck.

"Hate to break up a party," he said, the grin widening, "But you got a call from the Boston office. They say it's urgent. Apparently your cell's been off."

I looked back up at Ranger. He looked less than amused. I felt sorry for who ever was on the phone. "Better go make sure the civilized world is secure, Batman."

He looked down at me, still obviously unhappy. "Sorry, Babe."

"Hey, you're Bruce Wayne," I said with a smile. "It's time consuming. It's okay. I'll challenge Tank to Scrabble." I turned my head to Tank who rolled his eyes.

It was impressive and yet vaguely disturbing.

"I'm not playing Scrabble."

"Try not to kill him, Babe," Ranger said, finally releasing me. He ruffled my hair and disappeared down the hall, with a last undecipherable look at Tank. I decided to call it pity.

"So what games to you play?"

"How about poker?"

"I hate card games," I said, with an apologetic shrug. "I suck really badly. And I have the psychological scars from a game of strip poker in middle school to prove it. What about something less number-y?"

"Trivial Pursuit?"

I blinked. Well, Ranger lived in an early 1800's-ish looking mansion and listened to Brahms. Why wouldn't Tank be a closet Trivial Pursuit player? It was too good an opportunity to pass up anyway. "Sounds good to me."

He led the way through a couple rooms and into the den I'd watched TV in earlier. I stood out of the way while I got the game out of one of the ornate wood cabinets.

"What color do you want?" he asked as he set about setting up the board on a small table flanked by old-fashioned leather wingback chairs that I'd missed earlier. I admit it, I was a little hypnotized. He just made everything else look like toys. Probably including me.

"You choose." He picked green, I took blue, and the game kicked off.

I was getting my butt kicked and enjoying the heck out if it no time. He was definitely a walking sports encyclopedia, and pretty good with the science parts too. Luckily I could hold my own in history and we were pretty much tied with the arts and entertainment category.

Unfortunately, bythe time Ranger finally appeared again, I was stuck on the science part of it and had just given up.

"Come on, hon, it's a woman. She studied radiation…"

"Marie. Marie…" I stuttered to a stop, realizing I had completely forgotten the last name. And it was so simple, too… "Marie Leveaux?" I sighed, resigning myself.

Tank choked. "No, not quite. Come on, try again… Starts with a C…"

I frowned. "I'm blaming this on the fact I'm drugged, I hope you know. It's not fair to play when you're on pain medication the size of horse pills…" _Marie C…_ I brightened as an idea occurred to me.

"Marie Claire?"

"Closer, but not quite."

"Hey, why are you coaching me anyway. You're the opposition."

Tank laughed again. "Yeah. But I got an unfair advantage. Besides, if you said Neil Armstrong to one more question I was gonna start feeling guilty."

I stuck my tongue out, because I was mature enough not to call someone a stupid head. "You should feel guilty. It's not nice to be winning by that much."

"Hey, I'm not a nice guy, you know," he smirked.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. It might ruin your…" I paused trying to think of the word that was escaping me, "street cred." Behind me, Ranger coughed. It sounded an awful lot like he was trying not to laugh. Tank's eyes widened.

"Hon, don't do that."

"Do what?" I tilted my head, feeling even more confused.

"Talk street. It don't sound right."

I giggled. "Sorry. I'll never do it again, g."

Tank looked pained. "Ranger. Stop her."

Ranger was laughing softly. "Told you not to give her any ideas."

I smiled innocently and batted my eyes. Tank snorted and Ranger's hand appeared to ruffle my hair. Tank looked up at Ranger and it was like someone flipped a switch.

Instant change in the whole mood of the room. I even noticed a slight change in the big guy's posture.

"Do you even know what me and Ranger's reps are?" Tank asked seriously. His dark brown eyes were wary and dangerous. Cornered bobcats looked a little like that.

"Yeah," I shrugged and suddenly got the feeling there was something squicky going on. I felt like I was walking in late to Dr. Ferris's midterm. "Something about gun running, bounty hunting, scary badass types. Right?" I glanced up to find that Ranger's eyes had a slightly blanker version of Tank's look. I frowned as the squickiness clicked into place.

A test. They were testing me. Just like I'd had a feeling the whole unannounced intro to the Bat Cave had been a test…Well, fine. Test this, Justice League.

"Oh. My. God. Get over yourselves already!" I stood up and turned so I could glare at them both. "So you're all with the dark scary places that silly little girls like me can't go. You're still egotistical Neanderthals. Seriously, are you this… enslaved to your own machismo?" I used one of Chelsea's favorite phrases then paused for breath as another possibility reared its ugly head. "Ohmigod, you think I'm boring… is that it?"

I think my expression was probably pretty horrified at the thought because they both stared at me for a couple beats. Not with the intentional blank MIB faces, but with a sort of male puzzlement.

"That is it. Fine. I'm going to bed. Good night. And you are both in the doghouse."

I spun around and stomped out with proper dramatic flair. I even added a hair toss in case they didn't get the extent of dog house they were in.

"Slaves to what?" I heard Tank asking in a bewildered sort of voice.

Oh my god. Men. Typical. What the hell was I thinking? Real, imagined… seriously, they all came from the same monkey.

Bastards. Stupid monkey. I hoped he got eaten by a saber tooth tiger.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and started dialing as I stormed down the upstairs hall and into Ranger's room. I needed a female shoulder to cry on.

"What's up?" Lula's voice answered after one ring. "Something wrong?"

"Men are idiots. Insensitive, stupid, thick-skulled idiots."

"Yeah, thought you had that one figured out by now," she said, her voice sympathetic. "What you doin' letting a man get you all worked up for? Batman do something?"

"Bats are flying rats."

Lula laughed. "Ouch. He really pissed you off. Where you at?"

"The bat cave. Surrounded by flying monkeys," I muttered, slamming the door and flipping the lock. Not like it would stop Count Monkey Bat, but it made me feel better. Give the monkey another clue as to the extremity of the dog-house.

In fact, skip the dog house. He was going back to the pound.

"Girl, you have some serious explaining to do. Why the hell didn't you tell me you'd been there?"

"I just got to see it last night."

"Oh my god! You finally-"

"No. Nothing happened last night." _Unfortunately._ "I didn't even want to come here. He told me the Bat Cave is forever. I'm not ready for this!"

"I can see where that might be a problem."

"And now him and Tank were all doing the stupid, 'we're not nice guys' crap again. Like they're going to be any scarier than murderous Teletubbies or Eddie Abruzzi or-"

"Ramirez?" I could hear Lula shudder just thinking about it. "You're right. Batman ain't got shit on Abruzzi."

Of course I hadn't seen Abruzzi yet, but the tone of Lula's voice told me I'd guessed right. "Exactly. Yeah, they're scary, but they don't get that whole degree of icky…"

There was a knock at the door.

"Babe? Open the door."

"You can open it yourself, Ranger. Work for it."

"Uh-oh, girlfriend. You in trouble. He's going to be pissed."

"Good. I'm pissed. It'll be fun."

"Can I have your CD collection?"

"Sure. Find a good home for Rex."

"I'll take care of him like he was my own rat. Good luck."

"Thanks, Lula."

"You owe me details on the make up sex."

I sighed. "Deal. See ya tomorrow." And I hung up as the door opened to reveal a familiar buff silhouette.

As Ranger stepped into the light I could tell from his movements he was tense. His face was carefully neutral. "Babe."

"Don't even 'babe' me right now," I warned, my eyes narrowing. I put the phone down carefully, lest I give in to the urge to hurl it at his head. I lost more phones that way.

"Look, you don't know—"

"Save it," I cut in. My hand itched to pick the phone back up. "I really could fucking care less. I love you, Ranger. And I honestly like Tank and the rest of your guys I've met so far. But so help me, if you keep doing this testing and prodding shit, I'm going to kick you somewhere a lot higher than your shin."

Hesighed, shaking his head. "I have to. My life—"

"Isn't perfect? Isn't safe? Join the bloody club. Try mine out." I laughed at that idea. "I think I'm going crazy. That's it. I'm crazy. The universe is crazy. Whatever. I'm going to bed." I stopped and looked at the bed.

"Where?" Ranger's voice was rough and there was a weird note in it that I didn't recognize. Emotion. He sounded emotional. Worried maybe? I glared at him and pointed at the far side of the gigantic bed.

"There. On that side of it." I said the next part very slowly and clearly, enunciating to make sure I got the point through that 2x4 of a skull. "And you can sleep on the other side of it and stay on the other side of it because I'm still pissed."

Some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. "God, I thought…"

"What? I'd be asking to leave? Or I'd be sleeping somewhere else?" I rolled my eyes. "Look. I'm pissed off at you, but it's not entirely your fault. You're a guy. You haven't made it all the way over the hump yet. You still have too much monkey. But you better figure out when to leave well enough alone. Leave the theatrics to the bad guys. You want to kill me later, fine. Just do it without the drama."

Probably this sounded a littleless flippant to him than it did to me. I was still half considering throwing myself down a flight of stairs to see where I landed. Call it some kind of morbid curiosity. Maybe if I just kept throwing myself down flights of stairs I'd eventually land back in my life. I could have fond memories of life as various literary characters and countless falls down stairwells. I could be a connoisseur of stairs.

Anyway, I turned to move to my chosen side when I found myself being pulled tight against a rock hard chest and held a little too tightly for the comfort of my bruised torso. The meds were wearing off. I would have brought my hands up to push away and start lecturing again but I didn't have room to maneuver.

"Don't say that. I couldn't—" Ranger's heart was racing. I went still, unsure of what was going on. "Dio," he swore. He rested his head against mine, his hands slowly moving over my back, then my arms in soothing motions. "Never say that." One of us was shaking. I was pretty sure it wasn't me.

Oops. Looked like my mouth had sort of gone off again.

"Ranger, I didn't mean I think you would or anything. But you've been really… uncommunicative. And I do have an overactive imagination. Then the whole Mystery Man thing and you guys going all join the dark side…"

"I know," his voice was calmer, less emotional. "There are reasons, Babe. But the way you just said that, as if it were-," he stopped and didn't say anything for a moment. "Come on, there's hot chocolate down stairs with marshmallows." He waited, his expression careful but his eyes were warm and…and…

I sighed. "All right" _Crafty little monkeys. _


	32. Chapter 33

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: **Edited sex scene ahead. Check my site for the un-edited version.

**Note:** I intended to get back to the action this chapter but Alyssa apparently decided it was time for action of another kind. I can't blame her. Sorry about taking so long to update!

**00000000000000000000000000**

I tore my gaze away from the two men sitting across the table and took a sip of the hot chocolate. The sugary sweetness of a melty marshmallow and the richness of the cocoa slid through me- a silent reassurance that it would be all right in the end. The chocolate tastes like chocolate, the snozberries taste like snozberries.

So, I was in love with Jason Bourne. And this one came with his own group of fellow Bournettes… Ranger and Tank and Lester and Bobby. Figures. I knew that first job Steph did with RangeMan must have been a test of some sort.

They hadn't said if they'd been Bournettes together or not. I didn't want to know. Probably they'd been affiliated- I mean, how many black ops thingies can there be? Ugh, another question I didn't want answered… Anyway, now they were business partners and probably definitely affiliated in their extracurriculars. Rent-a-soldier, Inc. And from the sounds of it they were all pretty tight buds too.

Bats of a feather and all that. Or flying monkeys, if you look at it another way.

I took another sip of cocoa. This just made things worse, though, didn't it? I mean, now that they think I've passed the test and been told their shadowy past… now what happens if Steph comes back? Oh, I was pretty sure Steph wouldn't be coming back now- this wasn't really her reality anymore. I was pretty suredad'sappearance Meant Something, but one should be prepared for any eventuality.

"Babe?" Ranger's voice was quiet. Hm, better _not _share my thoughts…

"Yes?" I asked, taking another drink. Gods I loved hot cocoa. Nothing could really truly go wrong as long as there was hot cocoa and marshmallows to be had.

Tank and Ranger were watching me cautiously. Wary, that was a better word. I sighed.

"You're staring," I told them. I smiled a little and stirred my drink.

"Well, you haven't said anything." Tank was looking curiously at the cup in front of me.

"It's hard to get too worked up when there's hot chocolate involved," I said with a shrug.

"That's it? We tell you… you did hear what we just said, right?" Tank was now scowling at me like I was an impertinent Trivial Pursuit card asking some completely redundant question. I added another marshmallow to the cocoa and took another long, refreshing drink.

"You're black ops. Or you were anyway. And you did Bad Things. And went Bad Places and it was very much in the ugly icky death and bullets kind of way. And now you don't, except maybe you do but of course you won't say that but it was a little implied. Oh, and there is always going to be lurking threats from the bad old days."

Ranger's head was tilted and his eyes were unreadable. I had a feeling he was adding a column up in his little businessmonkey brain and not getting the right number. _Good. Test that._ I watched them both with polite interest and kept on drinking my hot chocolate.

"You know, man, I was prepared for her to run screaming or some shit. I could handle that. This is freaky." Tank shook his head.

"Sorry to disappoint," I said sincerely. "It just explains a lot. And anyway, I had imagined it might have been something along those lines. Either you were all like Triple X or just really obsessive posers."

"You never disappoint, Babe," Ranger said with the ghost of a smile.

"Depends on your expectations, Ranger. For instance, if you expect me to cook- and that said cooking will be edible- then I might disappoint." I cringed at the thought. Tank snorted. Ranger's smile widened fractionally.

"Wouldn't dream of it." _Smart little monkey._

"So, if we're through with revelations now, I think I'll go to bed," I said, yawning. I stood up and smiled at both the monkeys. "Sweet dreams, Tank."

"You too," he said with a little half-smile.

"And don't either one of you ever pull one of those psycho test things on me again or I'll kick your asses," I added as I headed out the door.

I walked into Ranger's room and sorted through his closet until I found a black t-shirt. I didn't look at the label. I didn't want to know if I was sleeping in a Sean John shirt or worse a YSL one or something. Probably I should have asked, but t-shirts are like hoodies. Being as I was a girl, and I'd slept with him and we were still friends, I had the right to kipe off with his shirts. Not dress shirts of course, but tees, tanks, hoodies, and sweats were fair game. Maybe jerseys if they were for a team I liked.

I slipped into one side of the bed, dressed in my appropriated shirt, and sighed as I sank into the mattress, reveled in the feel of Egyptian cotton. _But this bed was just right… the ballad of Goldilocks and the two Bat Bears. _

I giggled and turned a little more onto my uninjured side. I yawned again, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. At least I assumed I did because the next thing I was aware of was the bed moving a little as a weight settled into it. A very yummy-smelling weight.

"Somebody's sleeping in your bed?" I asked sleepily as my foggy little brain stumbled into the waking world. A masculine laugh.

"Yeah." The single syllable sent a spark of heat through my body. "And she's wearing my shirt, too," his voice was much closer than I would have thought and then I was being pulled backward, across cool sheets and settled against a warm solid chest.

"Mm, that's not good…."

"Oh, this is going to be good, Babe. Very good," he said quietly, his voice low and rough. My nipples tightened and I melted, just a little. Ranger laughed as his hand slipped under my shirt and began stroking my midriff, going steadily higher with each pass.

I sighed and wiggled my hips to settle closer to him. God, he was rock hard. Everywhere. "Just good?" I was going to voice a complaint until his teeth nipped my ear.

A moan tore from my throat as the desire shot straight through me. Pathetic- a little petting and I was panting already. Then again, this was a Sex God I was dealing with…

And then he stopped. His hand was on top of the shirt and he was just holding me. Sweet, but sweet was not on tonight's menu. I gritted my teeth and wished I was up to full strength so I could jump on top of him. The phrase 'riding like a pony' came to mind…

"Ranger?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too desperate.

Instead of a normal reply I got rolled onto my back to find the Sex God himself staring down at me. It was dark, but I could feel the heat of his gaze. Ranger was nothing if not intense. His hand brushed down the side of my face, his fingers rough and calloused more than your average CEO's should be.

"Babe, nothing you heard tonight can leave here. You want out, you better—"

"Ranger, I don't want out. I told you downstairs that the rest of it doesn't bother me. I don't really care what you did. I care about you, who you are now. Maybe if you hadn't been there or done that you wouldn't be the guy I just totally fell for."

"You don't care I've killed people?"

"You were a soldier," I said gently. Hell, where I grew up, the VFW was hallowed ground. Veterans, soldiers, were a race above. You fought for Uncle Sam you were a hero. Simple rule.

"And if I killed innocent civilians? Children?"

"Combat isn't pretty." My voice was different, even in my own ears. I raised my own hand to touch his face, his silky hair. "And orders are orders."Grandpa had said something like that once.

"What if it wasn't under orders? What if I killed for the hell of it?" he said harshly, but he didn't move, not a muscle, even as I ran my hand through his hair.

"Then we aren't talking about you. That's some other person I haven't met."

"It could be a part of me. Doesn't it scare you, Babe?"

I was silent. It did scare me. A lot. I knew what violence guys could be capable of. I'd seen what it did to unfortunate girlfriends and innocent bystanders. I also trusted Ranger, at least the Ranger I knew. And if I didn't I was pretty much screwed anyway. I knew what was coming up the road ahead. I wasn't naïve enough to believe Abruzzi would just go away.

"A little," I admitted softly. "But we all have a dark side. So you've met yours. You have an advantage over most people then."

He still didn't move. Okay, the Inner Sith Lord I could handle. The inner statue I could not. It felt like he was still there but most of him was somewhere else. Sort of like when mom was on her astral projection kicks and sat in the meditation room for hours on end, but worse because he was so close and this was sort of an intimate setting to be doing that in.

"I love you, Ranger." _Goddess help__ us both._ "Now please move. Blink or something. It's getting trippy."

Silence followed by further lack of movement. Did he fall asleep?

"So… now that I'm staying do I get a nifty outfit?"

"Babe." And I was back to fulfilling the inner Care Bear as I was hugged and cuddled and snuggled. That was it. Lula and I were going out and I was coming back with a rainbow on my hip. And while I was out I was buying Ranger a teddy bear.

Oh all right, so I didn't really mind it. That was the embarrassing part. Ranger could wrap his arms around me and just hold me and I didn't mind. I felt safe, warm, stupidly happy just laying there like that. I despised this sort of thing.

Ranger was rubbing my back his hands gently and light. I barely even noticed my shirt creeping upward until his skin touched mine. It was instant electricity, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Anything you want," his voice was rough and raw. I had a feeling I'd missed a page somewhere. Something had just happened and I didn't know what it was. And did he really know what he was getting into asking that question? And what was he asking anyway?

If he would just stop touching me long enough for me to think… No, screw that. Thinking sucked. Sex with Sex Gods rocked. Even if they were monkeys sometimes.

New meaning to monkey sex… the thought shocked a gasp of laughter from me as I tried to answer him. "Anything?"

"Mm," he nipped my ear and moved his lips down to my neck. "Anything," he said, his breath sending a chill through me as it breezed over my dampened skin.

"I want you," I said without meaning to.

"For how long?" His fingers were doing that thing to my nipples again and it was shorting out my brain. I was panting, and dangerously close to whimpering as I moved against him, trying to incite him, make him forget about this stupid sudden urge for talking. He really chose the damnedest times to get all verbal.

"I don't care," I sighed, pressing my breasts against his hands. "For now. Forever. For as long as it lasts…. You're such a tease…" I whined. When gasping, whimpering, and wiggling didn't seem to work, I was not above a good whine.

"That's going to be a very long time, querida," he was laughing. Laughing. The Monkey.

"Really? I don't remember it being all that long last time…" I knew it was dumb to bait him but I really couldn't help it. I was just written that way. The laugh stopped.

"Babe," he said, his voice dangerous. His hand slid down my side and back to rest on my hip. "Behave. I'd hate to leave a mark on that sexy little ass of yours."

Oh, hell yes. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat who just polished off a blackbird pie.

"I'd hate for you not to. Too bad you don't even have a place for handcuffs around here…"

"I don't need handcuffs to enslave a woman." No, probably right. One look in those velvet dark eyes and I tended to do whatever he wanted. Probably it happened that way a lot.

"Yeah, but handcuffs make it more fun."

Ranger's hand slid further down and slipped between my thighs. I moved to give him a little more room as his fingers began teasing me. "You want me to cuff you?" he asked as if concerned. No, I wanted those fingers a little to the left… right there. I moaned and moved against him, one hand grasping his forearm, the other tangling helplessly in the sheets.

"That could be fun. This works. Oh god, this works…" I arched my back. "Ranger, please-"

"I love it when you beg, angel," he whispered. _Good to know. Let's hear it for the love fest. _The thoughts flashed through my head as he continued to tease me. His lips touched the curve of my neck, gentle then his teeth raked over the spot as his fingertips touched my clit until I came, gasping his name.

Ranger rolled onto his back and I remained on my side, not quite ready for the advanced theory of movement just yet. I wasn't sure about ruined but I was definitely getting spoiled… I didn't even have time to catch my breath before he was exactly where he'd been, but—oh, condom. And I'd been all ready to feel guilty about being the only one enjoying the fun.

"You didn't think we were done yet, did you?" he teased.

"Never crossed my mind."

"Liar." He laughed and kissed my ear. "Shall I time this one?" he added, his voice a deadly growl. Mood swing… Then somehow I was on my stomach and he was on top of me, pinning my arms behind me.

Afterward, hewas still for a moment, although he finally let go of my arms. We both took a moment to breathe and I might have passed out because the next moment Ranger was lying next to me, pushing my hair out of my face, running his hand down my back, speaking quietly. I could barely hear him, and I considered opening my eyes, but it seemed like too much effort. I couldn't tell if he thought I was awake or asleep so I decided, since he was talking I might as well listen.

"You shouldn't even be here. My life doesn't lend itself to relationships…"

_Crap. Here it comes. The Go-Back-to-Morelli speech. So help me, Janet, when I can move I'm kicking Batman's ass._ I stayed still and resisted the urge to sit up and slap him. If I could even summon the energy to sit up and slap him.

"I never thought this would happen, Babe. I thought you'd be with the cop. Thought it was for the best. You could have a normal, happy life. Live in the 'Burg." His hand brushed through my hair."Then you go and quit being afraid of me." He sighed. "What happened? What changed you so much in one night?"

Uh-oh… I'm asleep. I'm asleep. I am the pillow…

There was a long stretch of silence. I wondered if he was listening to my heart trying to kill itself. I kept my breathing even and remained silent.

It was better that he didn't know. Safer that way. I didn't like nice young men in clean white coats. He couldn't know. No, instead he knew something but nothing exact. He was guessing. Good, let it be a mystery. He had mystery. I ought to have some too.

Maybe I'd be Bat Girl after all. As long as I didn't turn into a flying monkey…


	33. Chapter 34

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 34

Note: Heh. Sort of plot. Sort of not. Fluffyness abounds. Why? Because I feel like writing fluff. I am not equipped to write angst. That's another chapter away.

Disclaimer: I didn't do it. No Janets were harmed in the making of this fan fic.

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I woke up with a start. Something was wrong. Something was-- was… ringing. Fuck. Ranger and his damned Bat Phone. I buried my face back in the warm chest it had been resting on.

"Babe, it's not me."

I nearly cried. This meant I had to, like, get up and move and stuff. I was all warm and comfy, damn it. Trying to ignore the soreness of certain strategic areas I rolled away from the warm naked sex god and went in search of the cold, dead silicone, pausing long enough to retrieve Ranger's t-shirt from the floor and slip it on, followed by the pair of drawstring workout pants from my duffle.

My early morning, sleep-deprived brat-ness lasted until I saw the ID on the accursed phone. I felt my jaw drop from shock and it took me a couple tried to hit the answer button. "Mom?" I asked, not quite daring to hope, terrified it would be Ellen's voice on the other end.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Just hearing her voice was better than hot chocolate. I sank into the plush carpeting, cradling the phone. I had thought I might never hear from her again… "Sorry to call so early but I'm flying in today and I was hoping you could meet me at the airport. I have a surprise for you." Her tone was one that warned me of upcoming mayhem. My mother was nothing if not exciting.

"Surprise?" I managed to croak out.

"Actually a couple of them," she laughed. Oh gods.

"One of them isn't named Sven, is it?" I asked, suddenly wary.

"No. No Svens."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Where have you been?" I decided to ask out of idle curiosity. I still wasn't exactly up-to-date with what the hell my family history was supposed to be.

"Where else would I be? I was at the Mabon festivals in Edinburgh."

"Did you drop by Stone Henge?"

"No. I decided to focus on Scotland this time. Wait till you see the pictures from Stirling… sweetheart, I have to go but we'll be there at a little after noon. Bring this Ranger fellow."

"How did you—" But it was useless, She'd already hung up. I looked at Ranger as he stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a towel and a barely there smile. Were phone manners contagious? With a body like that, did it matter?

Oh god. Ranger. Mother meeting Ranger. Oh hell. The sense of impending doom curled into my stomach and settled in for a long wait.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

"I—" my voice croaked and I cleared my throat to try again. "My mom is flying in. I'm supposed to bring you. It'll be noonish." _Please have a business meeting._

"Your mom? Your dad know she's been gone?"

"Ellen's my stepmom." _Wow, okay, maybe not everyone got the cast update…_ Ranger took a moment to digest this and moved his shoulders in the incremental way that served as his form of shrugging. Economy in all things after all. Except sex. Maybe he conserved energy for that especially…

"All right," he said, turning to pull something out of the closet.

"Are you sure you're not busy?"

"No," he glanced back at me.

"If you are, I'll understand. You're a busy guy. Being Bruce Wayne takes a lot of time."

"It's fine Babe."

"I don't want to impose."

Ranger let out a long breath and turned to face me, wearing a pair of the ever-popular SWAT pants. Why was he supposed to put on something else again? Clothes were so old fashioned…

"You don't want me to meet your mother." I took a moment to appreciate the beauty of his chest, and the way that the scars seemed to just be a part of him. Honestly, I hadn't even noticed them before now.

"Not especially, no." That looked like a wicked one there on his stomach…

He raised an eyebrow. I bit my lip, feeling a twinge of guilt, but not enough to seriously hamper me.

"Any reason why?"

"You carry a gun."

"Babe, you carry a gun."

"Yeah. But if I do it, it's female empowerment."

"Isn't that a double standard?"

"Yes. Please don't point it out to her. She gets all speechy."

Ranger was now in full-on smirk mode. "You're scared."

"I'm not scared."

He stalked toward me, all power and grace, a hunter stalking his prey. I hated it when he made me feel like a small furry animal. I stood up, not that it helped, but at least I had a minimally better chance at escape. What I was escaping was beyond me. A lot of things were beyond me lately. I was getting used to it.

"You are."

I was. "I'm respectful," I protested, standing my ground to glare up at him. "I respect the hell out of my mom. She's like a benevolent fire-breathing dragon who is politely refraining from barbecuing my butt, but will not hesitate to get me a little crispy on the edges."

Ranger stopped in his tracks to stare at me. "You've put a lot of thought into this." My eyes narrowed dangerously and I crossed my arms.

"Fine. Just fine. You meet her and see if you don't agree. I'll enjoy seeing what fried green army guy looks like."

"She can't be that bad."

I took a step forward to slide my arms around his waist and look up into those beautiful dark eyes. "Guess you'll find out. Now finish getting dressed before I'm driven mad by lust and do something unforgivable like make you late to work. You have an empire to run, Lord Vader." He smiled and tweaked my nose before doing just that. Dressing. If society made any sense no one would ever put clothes on him.

I didn't feel up to facing a mirror so I pulled my hair into a pony tail at the base of my neck and left it at that. I watched as Ranger put on his own clothes, covering all those gorgeous rippling muscles with layers of black.

A smile touched his lips as he caught me watching him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just… the universe is sort of rearranging itself. It threw me for a loop." _And down a staircase.__ And into another body. And into a world that shouldn't exist._

Ranger shrugged on the shirt and stood looking at me, his eyes intense and focused. "Is this about last night?"

"No." I shook my head. "If it was about last night, I would probably have been running the other direction. I'm just off balance after everything_." Way off balance. Falling-out-of-body off balance._ "Are the guys all going to be downstairs?"

Ranger nodded. "Tank and Lester live here. Bobby's married and lives two houses down."

Right. He and Tank had kind of skimmed that portion last night… Well, I guess it figured. Why not? It worked in 3 Men and a Baby… okay, so this was 4 Men and an M-16, but whatever. "Safety in numbers?"

"Something like that."

"Do I need to go get cute?"

He smiled, moving his head slightly to the left. "You're adorable." Great, my inner Care Bear was glowing with happiness. I smiled back at him.

"You are aware I'm not a teddy bear, right?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. His smile widened into a blinding grin.

"I'm aware." His eyes raked over me. "I'm going to end up giving you my clothes." I laughed and stuck my tongue out.

"Nah, just part of them. You can keep your suits. I don't look good in ties."

Ranger's eyes were suddenly darker. "Babe," he sighed. Note to self, must try that Britney tux shirt and fedora thing sometime.

"Come on, there's food to be had. I'm feeling all dizzy and faint."

"And I thought it was because of me," he said as we headed out the door. His hand settled on the back of my neck and I wondered about that. It beat the hell out of trying to walk with a guy draped all over you, but it felt… odd, as if he were steering me. Would he go into his driving zone?

"Maybe it is. I guess I just don't have the stamina, Higgs."

"We'll have to work on that, Eliza," he said, smirking.

"Not for twenty-four hours. I'm having a hard time not walking weird as it is. You need to gain weight or take steroids or something."

Both his brows raised at that, and he chuckled. "Trying to tell me something, Babe?" I shot him a sideways look.

"What I'm sayin' honey," I drawled, "is that you're just too much man for little ol' me. Don't know if I can handle it…"

Ranger tilted his head back and laughed.

The kitchen of the Bat Cave was, in reality, a massive affair. I had wondered why it was so huge when there wasn't a horde of French chefs involved, but looking around now, I understood. It took a lot of room to handle Tank, Lester, Bobby, and Ranger. The testosterone levels were suffocating.

As I stepped across the threshold with Ranger, movement ceased. Conversations fell dead. I felt like I'd just walked onstage for my senior dance solo and I hadn't practiced. I pasted a smile on my face and focused on what looked deliciously like…

"Chocolate chip muffins?"

"Fresh from the bakery," Lester said, grinning and holding out the tray. Hey, I had said I'd try to eat more anyway.

"Rock on." I grabbed one and turned to Ranger. "Want one?"

He shocked me by nodding and I handed him one without even being able to think up a comment, so I disguised my momentary speechlessness by taking a bite of chocolaty muffin goodness. Apparently I wasn't the only one shocked because Tank, Lester, and Bobby were all doing pretty good interpretations of Rambo Guppies.

"No 'body-is-a-temple' speeches?" I asked after a second. Ranger shook his head and took a bite.

He ate it. I waited for a second. I figured it might be like a vampire eating garlic. Maybe he was going to choke and have some weird allergic reaction. He took another bite.

I laughed at myself and put my attention back on devouring my own muffin.

"So, anybody wanna chase a Bender?" I asked.

Tank choked on a piece of bacon. Bobby stared at me. Les looked horrified. Ranger smirked.

"Chickens," I sulked, snagging another muffin. I stopped to look at it thoughtfully. "Vinnie didn't call to fire me yet."

"He won't fire you," Lester was grinning deviously. I blinked at him and glanced to Ranger who had taken the seat next to me. Lester was on my other side and Tank and Bobby were across from us.

"Won't as in, doesn't feel like it, or won't as in he knows better?"

"Yep," Bobby said. And that was apparently all anyone had to say on that.

I thought about that for a minute. I decided I'd think about it tomorrow. I was going to have to reserve an entire day for thinking eventually. The table was pretty quiet, I realized with a start.

"You know, tall dark and silent really doesn't work this early in the morning guys. Please, talk or grumble or something. Mutter in discontent."

Bobby snorted. "Don't like the quiet?"

I glanced around. "Quiet is fine. But you guys are too big to be this quiet. It's unnerving."

"Hear that, we're unnerving, Ric," Les was obviously amused.

"A good thing you're such a good dancer, then," I reminded him. Just to see what might happen. His eyes shifted to me and I saw it took him a minute to access the memory. I watched in glee as a flicker of fear showed in his eyes.

"Reminds me, I was going ask if you ever salsa? You definitely have the rhythm for it," I stepped in. Wonder if Ranger saw what I saw? Or maybe he already knew? I glanced at Tank who was curiously intent on his omelet. Ranger was looking opaque. Unreadable. Eh, coin toss on that one.

"Hell yes," Lester said with a grin. "You weren't so bad yourself… You a dancer?"

"I lived for dancing for a really long time," I told him honestly. "I haven't had the time lately though."

"There's a really great place down on Kent. You and Ric should check it out."

"You dance?" I asked Ranger. Why not? I was going to have to get over my shock at anything beyond the limited knowledge of the books.

"A little," Ranger said with a shrug. Great, I was going to have to drag him on the dance floor. Well, no one could be perfect. Maybe I could con Lester into going with me some day.

A few more minutes of conversation, which eventually turned to take down strategy for a particularly nasty skip and I excused myself to go get dressed. I showered, worked some gel in my hair, and pulled on another ¾ length top and a pair of khaki carpenters and stood staring at the duffle bag.

If I took it down with me, that meant I was dying to leave. If I left it here I was being presumptuous. Well, I could always say I forgot it or come get it later or something. Now that was settled I headed downstairs. Time to get the circus back on track.

Ranger dropped me off at my apartment with a searing kiss and an assurance that he'd be by at noon. Then he pressed a set of keys into my hand, told me to check the lot, and was gone. I wasted no time in dashing across the apartment too look out the window. I scanned quickly for something shiny and black. There it was, gleaming in the morning sunlight like a sex dream in metal form.

A Porsche 911.

Without a second thought I ran out of the apartment, took the stairs two at a time, and made a bee line for the object of my immediate lust. I had been expecting a CR-V, but I wasn't going to argue with this. Sorry Janet.

It wasn't until I unlocked it and slid behind the wheel I realized I had a serious, serious problem. A sinking feeling of dread washed over me. The Porsche was a clutch. I, Alyssa Chase, had never learned how to drive a clutch.

Okay, I had options here. I could call Ranger and ask for another car. Something less flashy. Something I wouldn't worry about destroying. Yeah, that sounded good... I flipped open the phone and dialed.

"Yo."

"Yo back. A Porsche? I can't accept a Porsche. I refuse to be responsible for destroying a- another one."

"Babe. The guys have a bet going."

"They can re-do the bet."

"Think of it as a challenge." Disconnect. Screw you and your Bournettes, Bat Man. Fine, you want this Porsche destroyed, so be it. Of course, it's probably not going to die the way you thought it would.

I scrolled through the phone book until I found the name I was looking for, hit Send, and waited. The phone picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, cutie."

I grimaced, but let it slide. I'd have to lecture Mac about stupid nicknames when I wasn't asking him for favors. "I need some help."

"This is going to be good isn't it?" _Grr_ I could hear him smiling.

"I'm not sure. Probably it's going to be really, really tedious. And it's an odd request…" I took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I need you to teach me to drive a clutch."

"Why?"

"Because Ranger loaned me a Porsche. He won't unloan it, either, because he seems to find it entertaining. Apparently the Merry Men have a bet going on about how it's going to go to car heaven, but it's not going anywhere and neither am I because, as I mentioned, I can't drive it."

"Does Ric know this?" Mac was laughing now. _Monkey._

"No. It's embarrassing. I mean, normal people can generally drive something like this, right? I'll owe you."

"Yeah," he was still chuckling. "You're going to owe me. You're running up a tab, sweetheart."

"I'll figure something out. Just please, please help me?"

"You're lucky Kev can handle things around here this morning. I'll be there in fifteen."

"You are awesome, Mac."

"Remind me of that in an hour or two." And he was gone.

Good bye. Did it physically hurt them to say 'Good bye?' Was it against some secret sacred commando book of etiquette?

Fifteen minutes later Mac rolled into the lot in a blood red Ferrari. I wasn't big on Italian sports cars- I just didn't like them aesthetically- but I had to admit it was pretty sexy in an ugly sort of way. I grinned as he walked over.

"Show off," I said, pointing at the car.

"Always." He looked past me to the little 911. "So you've never driven a clutch before? Nothing at all?"

"Nope. I'm all about the automatic."

Mac sighed. "This is going to be a long morning. Hop in."

I angled in and Mac folded himself into it and then took me over the general theory and procedures. He showed me where the gears were. It sounded so simple.

Yeah, so did Riverdance.

"Christ. This car is not for beginners," Mac said through gritted teeth the third time I ground the gears. I looked at him helplessly.

"I could borrow my parents' car but it's a clutch too. And I am not going to drive a 1950's blue brontosaurus Buick."

Mac rolled his eyes but didn't suggest it either. "Just relax. You're rushing yourself."

It was almost noon before I had pretty much gotten the hang of it. I was pretty sure the gear thingy was a grisly mess though. Probably I was destroying the transmission.

"You'll be fine," he reassured me. His brown eyes were still amused despite my attempts at having multiple nervous breakdowns. I was glad he found me entertaining or I'd probably never have been seen again.

"I still can't stop on a hill."

"A lot of people can't. It's tricky."

I smiled and gave him a quick hug. "I really can't thank you enough."

He grinned. "Beats the hell out of spending the morning with a bunch of weight lifters anyway."

"You are a weightlifter."

"Exactly," he grinned. "We don't do so well in groups. So when you going to be back in?"

"Tomorrow hopefully. If you promise to go a little easy on me."

"I always go easy on you, powderpuff." He smirked, brown eyes shining with glee.

"Grrr, MacLeod."

He laughed outright and tweaked my nose. I stuck my tongue out at him to prove I was more mature. "You're a brat," he said with mock severity.

I opened my mouth to say something when a black Mercedes pulled in. Ranger got out, wearing black trousers and looking generally much more Wall St. than Stark St. He was wearing a blazer though. I was willing to bet money there was a gun under it.

"Mac," Ranger said, with a small nod.

"Ric." Mac mirrored Ranger's motion. I had a weird moment of what I thought might have been vertigo. If it hadn't been for Mac's lighter skin tone and slightly bulkier arms, I would have sworn they were brothers. They definitely were what Grandmary would have called cut from the same cloth.

"Ready, Babe?"

I eyed the two men and had a quick inner debate. I should go change but they looked like they might have something interesting to say to one another… Then again they were them and I knew they were both armed to the proverbial teeth, so maybe it was better to get out of the line of fire.

"I need to run upstairs and change. Be back in five." And I scampered. Their voices were already audible by the time I got to the door and it sounded like they might be rising in volume a little. Probably it would be a goodidea to change in record time.

My hair had air dried into soft waves so I left it alone and dealt with finding a nicer skirt or pants that were not obviously falling off me. It took a while but I managed it, with an army green skirt, brown knee-boots and a white turtleneck, because someone had managed to leave a gigantic hickey on my neck.

I was going to have to talk to him about that. I was not a fire hydrant. I didn't like having marks on me. At least not in places where they interfered with my fashion sense. By the time I was finished Mac was already gone and Ranger was sitting in the Mercedes looking stormy. Uh-oh.

"Is there something going on between you and MacLeod?"

I took a moment to process this one. "He teaches me self-defense? He just came by to check up on me." _And help me figure out how to drive a stick-shift, which you can't know about_. "He's a friend, Ranger."

"That's what you said about me."

"You were. You just got perks. Actually, you kind of took perks… not that I minded. But that was your modus opporendi. And by the way, you have got to be like the worst opportunist in history."

Ranger actually turned away from the road to look at me. "Care to explain that?"

"Oh come on!" I rolled my eyes at his totally alien brain. "I was all powerless against your wicked charms and you didn't do anything."

"You would have been happier with Morelli."

"You said you were an opportunist."

"I also told you I stay morally right."

I sighed and gave up. "Kissing me when I'm with a guy is not morally right. It's morally gray. Besides, I'm not with Morelli. I'm in the Bat Cave. And so far it's pretty much with the happiness."

"You're different now, Babe." I couldn't argue that logic. Not for the reasons he thought I couldn't probably. "And you haven't been in that long."

I shrugged that off. "Live for the moment, Higgs."

"What about the future?"

I bit my lip and looked out the window. It was hard to think about a future you might not have. I was so far off the books now that the only survival rule I had left was avoiding Pino's like it was the Black Death. "You never answered my question, you know."

"About?"

"Def cons. What is a Def Con and why is it numbered?"

"Later, Babe."

I glanced at him but let him slide into his Zone while I played with the radio. I needed mindless pop music drabble and I needed it now.

The airport was crowded but people seemed to instinctively know to get out of Ranger's way. In fact they were getting out of both our ways and shooting sidelong glances. I looked again at Ranger's Wall St. wear and then at my own outfit. Maybe they thought he was my bodyguard. Whatever the reason, it made navigating to the McDonald's area a breeze.

"Shouldn't we be waiting somewhere—"

"This is where we always meet. This or Burger King," I explained and forced myself to quell a moment of panic. What about here? That was the rule for at home, what about here?

"Moonbeam!"

Nope, never mind. Apparently my mother would be the same no matter which universe you stuck her in. I laughed and looked around Ranger to watch my mom come toward us. She was dressed in a linen pant suit with her brown hair swept up into a French twist, but was looking a little mussed. Even so, she was gorgeous. Mom had those fluke genetics that meant even at 45 she still looked somewhere in her early 30s. Both my parents were like that. I was praying I'd gotten it passed on to me.

She brushed past Ranger and engulfed me in a warm hug and a slight fog of lavender, her fragrance of choice when traveling. As I looked over her shoulder I realized that there was someone tall, lean, and well-dressed trailing her. At least he didn't look like a Sven.

Mom pulled away to look at me, her eyes searching and determined. It was a look I would imagine people having while scouting out enemy terrain for a prolonged siege.

I cleared my throat and gestured to Ranger. "Mom, this is Ranger. Ranger, my mom, Lydia Morgan." Mom gave me a meaningful look. I tried not to wince. I could almost feel the flames starting to burn.

"Call me Rhianna," she said with a charming smile to Ranger. "I've been looking forward to meeting you." _And barbecuing him for lunch… Ranger flambé, anyone? _

Mom pulled Mr. Designer Suit forward and her smile widened. I cringed. I knew that smile. I felt a surge of pity for Designer Suit. He looked at Mom and I knew I was right.

"Moonbeam, Ranger, this is Derek St. George."

Ranger was looking at me. I could just see the question marks flying through his head. Maybe I was getting ESP, too. I smiled at the unfortunate Designer Derek and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Derek."

"You look so much like your mother, Moonbeam."

_Oh, hell Janet._ Please tell me that of all the things you could have let transfer over from my life, you didn't just do this to me… I take it back. I'll live by your rules. Oh, please don't have done what I think you did.

"Thanks," I smiled and avoided looking at Ranger. Mom however was fascinated. She was eyeing him like he was lunch. And not in a friendly lunch way either. More in a "I shall eat your soul and enjoy it" way.

"I'm starving," she said. "Where is a decent restaurant in this place?"

"Let me go get the rental car sorted out and we can head out," Derek suggested. He was eyeing her uneasily now as well. Maybe he was brighter than most guys were.

My mom was a great mother, a great writer, and a wonderful friend. She wasn't much on maternal instincts, but when they did kick in they were in full rampaging rhino mode. I looked at Ranger and quickly back at her. I prayed he had the sense not to make any sudden moves. Life would be hell if she decided to hate him.

"So, how old are you, Ranger?" her voice was warm enough to be polite, cool enough to seem not that interested. He looked at her a moment before answering.

I had the sudden feeling I was watching a battle of wits.

"Thirty-two."

"Where are you from?"

"Grew up in Jersey, lived in Miami for a while."

"What do you do for a living?"

"He started his own company," I jumped in. "He's in security."

"RangeMan, correct?" she asked, waiting for my nod before she turned back to Ranger. "Could you excuse us for a moment, please? Ladies room," she explained, taking a hold of my arm and pulling me toward the bathrooms.

When we were safely ensconced in the male-free zone, Mom turned on me. Her blue eyes were steely. "You know what he is. What his company is."

I considered asking how she knew but decided against it. It was probably too much to hope for that RangeMan or various subsidiaries had never run afoul of an Eco group or an animal rights organization. "Yeah, mom, I know."

She took a deep breath and I saw her fighting for relaxation. I could almost tell you how long each chakra point took to scrub clear of negativity. "Moonbeam you are a grown woman," she said slowly with a slightly rehearsed air. "I won't tell you who to play with or what to do. You were born with an amazon spirit and an old soul. I trust your judgment in this."

"But if it blows up in my face, I'll still let you say 'I told you so,'" I offered. Mom's eyes met mine for a shocked moment and then she laughed.

"Brighid help me, I'm doing it, aren't I?" she sighed, still smiling faintly. "Well, I guess I'll do it properly then. Get it out of the way. He's too old for you. You are twenty-two, he's thirty-two!" I blinked and tried to accept that one. Well, I guess I was getting my twenties back… "He's got an unhealthy past, and he's dangerous." She paused then and her face softened as she took my hand.

"But I see why you like him. He has a good heart. You always had a thing about knights," she ended with a resigned air.

"Well, at least it wasn't cowboys."

"They're the same thing, darling."

It was my turn to feel resigned. "I kind of thought that."

"You could do worse," she laughed, pulling me into a hug. "Are you meaning to keep him?" she asked as we headed back out to face the testosterone bearing throngs again.

"I'm not really sure. Maybe, maybe not."

"Good idea. Stay open."

"And Derek?"

Mom pursed her lips. "I haven't decided. I just might."

Oh, poor, poor Derek.

When we reached the table, Ranger suggested some healthy joint. Mom gave him an actual smile and looked delighted.

"Scotland has not yet discovered tofu," she said mournfully. I glanced at Derek. He looked like he'd rather not discover it either. Well, he might as well find out everything now.

"Sounds good to me," I seconded.

Ranger's brow lifted but he didn't comment. I was going to be facing the Cuban inquisition again. I just knew it.

We were almost out of the parking lot, Derek and Mom following us in a hybrid Civic. Who knew New Jersey had even been alerted of hybrids?

"Moonbeam?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Ask my mother."

"Babe."

"Babe-ing me is not going to work. Beating me with a Louisville Slugger wouldn't work. Drawing and quartering wouldn't work."

Silence for a few moments. "Since when do you eat health food?"

"It's not that bad. I just don't like a steady diet of it."

_Shut up and drive now, Ranger. I have no answers. I am the seat. I am the landscape. No answers here_…

We were almost through dessert when he finally brought it up. I was pretty sure he'd only put it off to drive me nuts. He'd done a good job of it. I had almost convinced myself he wouldn't ask.

"Rhianna, why do you keep calling her Moonbeam?"

Mom gave me a long-suffering look before she looked back at Ranger. "She didn't tell you?"

"She insists I ask you," Ranger's lips quirked in a smile. _Aw, isn't she a precious thing? Let's humor her… Bat-stard._

Mom smiled back at him, all charm. "Then I'll let you in on her little secret. Her full name."

_Oh hell._ I bit down on the lingering teenage urge to shriek the word 'Mom' at the top of my lungs. My hand clenched in my napkin.

"Moonbeam Chalcedony Stephanie Alyssa Plum. I hate the name Stephanie. It was her father's idea." Mom's tone left no doubt as to her opinion for any idea originating with Dad. "He wanted something 'normal' to call her. She's been using it to appease him her entire life."

Funny, I remembered there being no Stephanie part to that name and it ended in Chase. And she had said I used Alyssa to appease Dad. Uh-huh. Like being named Moonbeam wasn't going to get me laughed out of kindergarten…

"Moonbeam?" Ranger tested the word out. If looks could have killed he would have been one dead bloody Sex God.

I bit my lip and focused on my sorbet. I wasn't speaking to either of them. I spent the rest of the evening talking about international antiques with Derek. Or rather, asking him questions and letting him answer.

"Come by the new store!" Mom urged as she hugged me goodnight. "I'll be here for the next couple months getting set up. Then I've got the book tour coming up. You should come with me."

"Maybe. If you swear on the Book of the Dead never to do that again," I said quietly.

"It's your name, sweetheart. I gave it to you for a reason. It's not as if I'm handing out your Wiccaning name."

I shook my head. My mom and I could inhabit any number of universes and still not be on quite the same plane of existence.

The ride back to… wherever we were heading back to… was quiet for a while.

"There's a full moon out tonight, Babe."

I tried to hold it in. I really, really did, but I was tired and sulky.

"RANGER!" I shrieked, throwing my head back against the seat in a paroxysm of left-over teenage hysteria.

My only answer was his laughter. At least someone was amused. I was going to kill him. Maybe it was good that he was going to die laughing.


	34. Chapter 35

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 35

**Disclaimer:** And I'm back to stealing Janet's plot. Profitlessly of course. And with complete respect. Mostly.

**Note: **Thank you to everyone for reading! Stick with me, it's almost through.  
Nathan's Raven: If you can outwit the rest of us Babes to get to him first, he's all yours, lol.

Webster: Thank you, that's a very high compliment. Poor Janet, I think she's in constant danger of rabid fans chasing her down with nerf bats. I shall write on, and hope I don't disappoint. :D

**000000000000000000000000000000000000**

"Don't you dare tell anyone!"

"Babe," he was still laughing.

"Please?" I wailed, feeling vaguely desperate. Odd where my priories were- I could handle being insane, threatened, stalked, killed, but someone brings up my stupid name and I'm whining like a 12-year-old. "Would you like being named Moonbeam? How the hell will anyone ever take me seriously. _You _can't even say with without grinning!"

I turned to look at him across the console and put on a stage smile. "Hi!" I said in my brightest, bubbliest voice. "I'm Moonbeam, I'm here to take you to the pokey! So be nice and I won't kick your ass."

Ranger was trying valiantly not to laugh. "Pokey?"

Of course. That entire tangent and he picks up on that. "I was going for effect. Now, I ask you. What would you do if I showed up looking for you?" Ranger's eyes slid away from the road to look me over and his smile was pure wolf. I swallowed and tried not to think for a minute as my body started to get its own ideas. "If you weren't you."

"At least you can be pretty sure they'll underestimate you."

He did have a point. "Okay, fine. But do you honestly want to admit you have someone on the employment roster at RangeMan named Moonbeam? They'll think you're in a prostitution ring."

"More likely Green Peace."

"Same thing. Ruins your image either way."

Ranger's head moved in a negative manner but he stayed quiet. I was learning to appreciate his quiet moments. I never had the urge to kick him when he was quiet. Well, mostly never.

We pulled into the parking lot of the apartment and I was about to climb out when Ranger's hand caught my shoulder.

"The guy in the gray sedan. He belong here?"

I followed Ranger's gaze and bit my lip as I tried to remember. Crap. We were at this sequence? I thought I might have avoided it…

"No. I don't recognize him."

His face turned grim then went emotionless and he inclined his head even less than normal. "Follow my lead."

I grabbed my gun out of the ugly Coach purse and trailed Ranger over to the sedan, a sick feeling of dread washing over me. It wasn't cold outside but suddenly my hands were icy as he tapped the driver side window and it rolled down. The man inside was bald, with beady eyes and somehow reptilian. My skin crawled just looking at him.

"Waiting on someone?" Ranger asked.

"What's it to you?"

Ranger moved fast, grabbing the guy by his jacket and pulling him halfway out the window. I swallowed and kept my jaw shut. This wasn't my scene anyway.

"I need you to take a message to Eddie Abruzzi for me, can you do that?"

Reptile Guy nodded.

Ranger let him slither back into his car. "Remind him he's lost the war and he needs to move on."

We watched the sedan drive off and I pretended my hands weren't numb as they gripped my gun a little too tightly. Ranger relaxed a little as the car disappeared, but he was still on alert.

"We'll give the rest of the team a couple minutes to get out of your apartment. I don't want to shoot anybody. I have a tight schedule this afternoon, I don't have time to fill out the police forms."

"Team? There's a team?" I choked on that news. "I need a drink." Ranger just looked at me. Probably he didn't see any reason to get upset over a little thing like a hit squad. "You know he isn't going to listen right? He's not the moving on type. He's the burning-at-the-stake type."

Ranger shrugged. "He doesn't have an option."

"Sure he does. Kill me."

"Babe."

I just looked at him this time. My mind was reconsidering my current predicament. Mom was here now. Somehow it made things different. I wasn't sure how except that she was still exactly Mom. Her name wasn't Ellen or Helen and she wasn't married to Dad. She was torturing poor Derek.

"Time enough?" I asked Ranger, since I was perfectly aware I didn't have any answers and even fewer clues.

We took the stairs. Yes, the alarm confirmed there had been a security breech. Ranger went in first, but found nothing. I already knew he wouldn't. Instead of bothering to follow him like a lost puppy I checked to make sure Hamtaro was still kicking, then stood next to the phone to wait.

I didn't have to give it long. Sure enough, it rang and there was an annoyed Jersey guy on the other end.

"Where's Manoso?"

I sighed. "Good afternoon, Mr. Abruzzi. Just a moment, please." Ranger stepped out of the hall, looking extremely pissed. I handed him the phone and wondered if Abruzzi would die in a third would country or become its dictator.

My vote was on the dictator option.

Ranger hit speaker phone.

"Stay out of this," Abruzzi hissed. "This is a private matter between the girl and I."

"You involved me, Abruzzi. Your guys hit my car the other night."

There was a string of Italian.

"My apologies. We will replace the car."

"You know it don't work that way."

"Then we are at war as well. I suggest you look out the window at the parking lot." The line went dead. I eyed the window and debated whether I wanted to look or not. I like the Mercedes. I didn't want to see it die.

But like a good little actress I took my stage cue and followed Ranger over in time to watch the spectacle as somebody tossed something out the window of an suv. The something hit the Mercedes and there was a very large, ear-rattling explosion.

I looked at Ranger, feeling a little worried. Sure, losing a truck was one thing, but another Mercedes? That was going to hurt.

"I liked that car," Ranger said as the sirens got closer.

"Me too."

I sniffled, and watched the flames licking through that lovely leather interior. I sniffled again. I was shaking, and my stomach felt like I'd been eating Mexican jumping beans that were still jumping. Another sniffle.

Suspicious, I lifted a hand to touch my nose. Oh, frabjous joy, bloody nose. I hated Abruzzi. I put my other hand on Ranger's shoulder in mute apology then dashed for the bathroom and the tissues.

The next few hours were full of me trying to play familiar with various policemen who apparently knew me or knew of me and Ranger filling out paperwork. I was betting if he could have managed it, whoever invented the idea of a form would have found themself in Sudan.

Morelli showed up as they were hauling the remains of the Mercedes away on a flatbed and the crime scene was beginning to disperse. Thankfully my nose had quit bleeding an hour beforehand, but then again I rather wished it would start again. Any excuse to avoid him. The Morelli Guilt welled up, twisting my stomach a little tighter than it had been.

"Cupcake," Joe said. I gritted my teeth and felt a small little bit of the guilt disappear. "Want to tell me about this?"

I bit my lip and thought about it. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Ranger looking our way. He didn't look happy, in fact, he looked even less happy than he had looked. I focused back on Joe's puppy dog brown eyes and his disheveled hair. God he was hot. He also looked a little worried. But on the other hand, I had my orders.

Some girls don't listen to their parents, and generally I was one. But when dad gave a direct order, I was disinclined to ignore it.

"Sorry, Detective. I already gave my report to Constanza," I said gently.

"Steph," Joe's eyes widened a little and I could see the hurt in them. "I know I was a bastard the other day—Look," he sighed, and glanced to Ranger and back at me. "We need to talk. Can we just step outside for a second?" He was about as close to pleading as Italian male genetics came, I'd guess. And he was using the puppy dog eyes. Damn it.

"Just for a second. A little privacy would be a good idea."

We walked a short way down the street and turned the corner, putting a few extra yards between us and the chaos zone before we squared off. I kept my arms hugged tight around me, suddenly feeling even more sick than I had. Maybe it had been bad tofu… yeah, that was it. It was bad tofu. Nothing to do with the overwhelming sense of doom.

"All right, Joe. Talk."

He ran his hands through his hair and looked at me, his eyes suddenly lost. "I'm sorry, Cupcake. I fucked up… I really fucked up." _Gee, you think? And they say detectives aren't smart…_ "I guess I'm out of chances now, huh?"

"Yeah. That would be a safe guess, Joe."

"Your dad—Your dad said I—" his eyes were on my arm. I considered pulling up my sleeve but decided against it. Cruelty to boys was well and good, but not if one was at least attempting an apology.

"Yeah. You did."

"Christ." He looked like he wanted to throw up.

"Just take it as an object lesson," I suggested. "You didn't mean to, I know. But you have to be more aware of stuff." I had almost said 'your surroundings.' I really needed to spend less time stealing Ranger's lines.

Joe didn't look convinced. "So, you and Ranger are an item now?" He kept his voice remarkably clear of resentment. I almost didn't catch it at all.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "We'll see what happens."

There was a long silence. He looked sad, and far away. He was looking at a future that might have been, disappearing. "I think that was the problem. You never—"

I never heard what he said next. There was an explosion of noise and the sound of tires squealing. I turned in time to see Reptile Man jumping out of an SUV, running straight at us.

"What the hell?" Joe was reaching for his gun there was another movement off to the side.

"Run!" I yelled at him and took off, heading back toward the apartment. I made it two steps before something hit me in the shoulder. Another four before my legs gave out. I fell hard, right on my injured side. I forgot to breathe as the pain hit. But my eyes were open. I heard someone curse and looked up. The Lizard was leering down at me in triumphant glee.

If I'd been able to breathe I would have screamed. If I'd had enough time I might have managed it anyway, but he touched my arm and all the noise I made was a small gasp before I blanked out.


	35. Chapter 36

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 36

_Disclaimer:_ Janet made up the plot, the characters, the universe. I'm just rearranging them for the fun of it.

_Note:_ Thanks everyone for reading this! This is another chapter of not much happening. Really it is. Nothing happens. But I'll ask a question: What do you think she's going to do?

Nathan'sRaven: I'm jealous! I haven't had time to go pick up a copy of 11 yet, so no guarantees of what happens being similar to whatever happens in there. But now I'm dying of curiousity to find out what you're talking about... "Steph/Morelli nonsense" is a good term for it.

**000000000000000000000000000000000**

I was a martini, being shaken by a very hunky bartender and being poured out into a glass of ice for James Bond… It was a nice dream right up until my bruised side smacked into the ice cube. I woke up with in a fog of pain.

Alas, no martini and no James. Instead I was lying in the back of a van, sliding and rolling around like a sack of potatoes. Apparently this was the new lunar module, and we were navigating the craters…

My hands and mouth were secured with masking tape. Masking tape. Of all the stupid things. And they didn't even have the decency to ship me to a third world country.

I glared up at the world flashing by outside. It was almost dark, the setting sun was glinting through the back window and dazzling my eyes. We were heading through a pretty woody area, too. The looming shapes of trees were whipping by, their shadows casting the interior of the van in eerie shifting patterns of light and dark.

Woods. Forest. We were heading for the cabin. Abruzzi's cabin. And there was no Valerie to dump out. No unexpected savior to crash through the wall. There was a cavalry, but that was no good. Ranger and Joe couldn't possibly know where the hell we were going. Why hadn't I told someone? I could have told Mom it was a dream. She'd have believed me… But no, here I was, alone, bound and gagged and at the mercy of Reptilicus and the evil Henchmen of Abysmal. I struggled against the tape holding my wrists and against the scream rising uselessly in my throat.

'Stop,' came the whisper from the small remaining bit of sanity in my head. 'Stop, stop, stop. You can't panic now. You can panic later. Panic now and you will be dead.'

Urgh. The urge to scream went away. I hated it when I was right. Okay, I don't want to die so let's find a way past that. I looked around for inspiration.

The handle of the back window gleamed in the fading light. If I could get that back door open and get out, the jump might kill me. The impact might kill me. A MAC truck following us might kill me.

Abruzzi however would definitely kill me and he'd make sure it took a really, really long time. Screw it. Die trying or die not trying. Might as well cause someone some stress on my way out. Glory over length of days.

I could hear Reptilicus and someone else talking up in the front. Probably debating the details of my imminent demise. I gritted my teeth and let myself roll to the back, landing against the door with a painful thud.

"She awake yet?" someone asked.

"Don't matter. We're almost there."

_That's what you think, bastardo._

No one was guarding the back seat to keep an eye on me. How convenient. Thank you, Janet.I grabbed hold of the latch without sitting up. No one yelled a warning. I twisted it slowly one way.

Nada.

I fought the panic off and twisted it the other way, still going slowly to hopefully avoid any loud noises. Not that you'd be able to tell anyway- the van was loud and clunky. Sounded like it was on its last wheel.

There was a click and the door was loose. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding in, releasing it with a mental thank you to the universe. Now for the real problem: gamble on them slowing down for a curve before they got to the cabin or just taking my chances…

I'd been holding the door closed but the driver picked that exact moment to drive over a pot hole the size of Kentucky, throwing me a couple inches into the air and wrenching the door out of my hand.

It flew open and banged against the side.

"FUCK!" someone bellowed. "Stop!"

There was a squealing of brakes and I didn't wait around for anything else. I grabbed the edge of the frame and launched myself out of the vehicle. This time I at least landed on my relatively un-bruised side, but skidded across the asphalt like a street hockey puck.

That was definitely going to leave a mark.

Fortunately the adrenaline had kicked in and the pain sensors were in the ignore box for the moment. I struggled to my feet in time to see the van coming to a screeching halt. I dove into the woods without looking back. Probably it was pointless. Probably they were going to catch me and filet me, but by gods they were going to work for it.

Reptile and the other one were shouting curses and threats behind me. Ahead of me there was nothing but rapidly darkening forest. If I could just last until sundown…. They'd never find me in the dark…

The forest we were in was old growth, the trees were huge and majestic. If I died here at least it wouldn't be in some skanky alleyway. There wasn't much comfort in that, but some. It wouldn't make the dying hurt less, though.

I scrambled through the undergrowth and cursed the bastard who had through up masking tape. It was so hard to run with my hands and arms useless. The movies never let you in on that, never clued you into how unbalanced it was. Unnatural. One little thing like having my hands tied up and my whole body was off kilter…

They were following me. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them yelling and thrashing around. I was trying to be quiet, picking paths of less resistance, trying not to break too many branches or leave a clear trail. Another thing they don't ever explain… Like how hard it is to be stealthy with leaves, twigs, and gods knew what else crunching underfoot.

I was going to have to see if Ranger knew how to get through woodsy places all slealthy-like. I was definitely in need of some serious stealth right now.

I ducked around a huge maple tree and tried to catch my breath. The mouth piece was going to have to come off. I sniffled, taking in as much air as I could and yanked it off in possibly the most awkward motion ever. Using one hand with the other hand tied onto it to pull something off one's mouth was not going to be graceful.

I held back the howl of anguish as the tape effectively exfoliated the top layer of skin from my lips and chin. I sniffled again.

I was pretty sure my nose was bleeding. That or I was having a Blair Witch Project moment. Thank god there weren't any cameras around.

I glanced down at my body and immediately wished I hadn't. My pants were ripped and bloody, sticking to my right leg in places. My arms were bleeding from a zillion cuts and scrapes that might have from the road or from the branches and brambles, or both.

I wiped the blood from my nose and took off again, stashing the tape in my pocket. I didn't want to leave them with any obvious signs of my passage. No more stops until the sun went down. I could hide in the dark. I could have hidden now but it didn't feel like a good idea. No, I would run until it was dark. They'd have to use flashlights then and they might even have to wait for morning.

I kept running mostly straight ahead, keeping what remained of the sun on my left. Once it got dark I was going to have to stop or I'd be lost. More lost, anyway. I had no idea where I was. If I lost track of direction I wouldn't even know where the road was. Not a happy thought, that.

The last rays of light finally slipped away, or I was so deep into the old growth that they were blocked, but either way I was operating at last in almost total darkness. The shouts and crashing of Reptilicus and his guy had faded, but I wasn't sure I was ready to take a chance. I did need to catch my breath and regroup. Still, they could have gone into stealth mode. Okay, right, somehow I didn't think they had a stealth mode, but I didn't want to underestimate them.

I leaned against a tree and fought the burning sensation in my lungs. I would have to start running with the guys or something. I really didn't have enough stamina. After a few labored breaths it started to get easier, and the knot in my air passageways seemed to relax. I was shaking, I realized belatedly, and my mouth tasted like blood. I knew I had a split lip and my nose had been bleeding. I probably looked like a murder victim. Which I would be if they caught me… Okay, think Alyssa. Think about the books.

All you have to do is survive until morning. Abruzzi will have shot himself by then. Er, well, he will have ceased to live anyway. It should be safe. Right. I only had to figure out a way to hide until morning.

I looked down at my aching and battered self. If I stopped moving tonight I might not be able to move in the morning. Hell, I was going to pay for the short break I'd taken just now. But I didn't have a choice. I had to bed down or I'd be fumbling around in the dark…

Did they have wolves around the East Coast? What about coyotes? Cougars?

Shit. Merde. Hell.

Okay, so there wasn't much I could do about that except to climb a tree… unless there was a cougar. Then I was screwed. But if I could climb a tree I'd probably have a pretty decent hiding place and I'd be safe from wolves and coyotes.

Oh joy. I hadn't done any night-time tree climbing since I was ten. This ought to be entertaining. I looked around, struggling to make out the shape of any climbable trees. Well, they all looked pretty sturdy, since this was old growth forest… but I couldn't see any with branches low enough. Damn it.

Worry about that in a second. I needed to get my hands free or I couldn't do any tree climbing. I could try to get back to the stupid road. Right, and just pray each set of headlights wasn't Abruzzi's. Not to mention that the headlights might be some other equally blood-thirsty lunatic. No, the road could wait until morning. I raised my hands to my chin and started trying to find the edge of the tape. Come on, it had to be sticking up or something… just a little bit… stickiness… where was the sticky…

"Ow!" I whimpered as my hair caught on some part of it. "Found it," I added quietly. Breathing a sigh of relief I tracked the hair and bit the tiny little edge of tape. Holding it securely, I started pulling with my hands.

The process was slow going and a lot more tedious than I'd expected. My neck was hurting from the pulling. Probably I had whiplash from bouncing out of the van anyway. I thought I'd managed to tuck my chin down when I started to go out, but it was hard to remember. Mostly everything was a blur. But if I didn't get my hands undone I was going to be useless. You needed your hands free to fight and to climb. Plus I'd be able to run a little better.

I kept up. Yeesh, masking tape tasted like crap. It actually tasted worse than balloons. Or condoms. Or even glue. It was kind of a combination of all the ickiness of those things. Blech. You'd think with today's technology… Then again, there probably wasn't a huge market for flavored tape. I had to sit down after a while and I tried using my foot. Step down on the end of the tape, pull up with the hands…

Getting the tape unwrapped took a lot longer than I thought it would. Note to self, from now on, carry a Swiss Army knife. By the time my hands were free, I was panting again and the shaking was worse. I knew with terrible certainty that I no longer had the option of climbing anything. I just didn't have the strength.

Okay, so that was out. Where did it leave me? It left me a bloody sitting duck for any large predators, including the ones hunting me. Not good odds. Screw that, I'd better get moving. It was harder to hit a moving target, right? Even one that was moving blind?

There was a full moon out, I could catch occasional glimpses of it through the leaves. The moonlight did strange things to the world, leeching the color until it was all a web a shadows and silver. Even blood didn't look so bad by moonlight; it was just dark shadows against my skin. It made it a little more difficult to panic.

It was a starry night in an ancient forest, under a full moon. The cool serenity seeped through me and I took a moment to savor the beauty of the scene. That was the problem with adventures, you saw some of the most beautiful places imaginable but you never had time to appreciate them. Well I could definitely appreciate it. It was a beautiful fairytale spot to be running from monsters in.

It would be nice if there was a cottage up ahead with some helpful dwarves or something…

I struggled to my feet and turned right. I'd run right from the road, run mostly straight, turned right again so a third right should take me back to the road. Maybe. Sort of. In the general vicinity of the road anyway.

"Come on, feet," I sighed and started walking. My muscles screamed in protest at every step of the way. They demanded rest and a soft bed. My stomach demanded food. My hair demanded a hot oil treatment. My skin wanted aloe. My nails wanted to see a professional manicurist. My mind wanted a holiday to Outer Mongolia. Maybe even Shangri-la. It however said it might settle for a month on a beach with a gorgeous cabana boy named Javier.

Dirty Dancing Havana Nights. Oh yeah. I was going to rent it and cuddle up with a chenille throw, candles, incense, and a mug of hot chocolate. Then I was going to watch Dirty Dancing the original and Clueless and Kangaroo Jack and any other bright happy fluffy things that caught my eye. Maybe the entire first season of Buffy…

My foot connected with a root I hadn't seen and I fell face-first into a pile of leaves.

I sighed into the leaves and stayed still for a moment. If I had just twisted my ankle, that was it. I was just going to stay right here and die… Hey, what was that?

There was light. Real light. Yellow, man-made light… and someone was yelling. I pulled my head up out of the leaves and looked straight ahead. Several yards away there was a hedge. The light was shining through it.

I froze and listened to the world around me. I didn't hear anything. The sound of crickets, and a few other animal in the woods noises, but no crunchings and munchings of humans. That was a positive.

I pulled myself up a little bit more and elbow walked myself forward. I could have gotten up and walked. I would have looked much less ridiculous if I had, but it seemed like this was more stealthy. Probably there was some impressive commando name for elbow-walking, but I didn't care about impressing anyone. I wanted to peer through the hedge and see what I could see. That's what you did on adventures.

So I slithered my little self to the hedge, feeling proud because I hadn't actually made that much noise doing it. There wasn't very heavy leaf fall here, I'd mainly been slithering over grass. I tried not to think about the fact I'd probably just given myself ringworm by dragging my cut up arms and legs across the ground. Ringworm beat a bullet any day.

Once I was at my goal I pushed apart a few branches and stuck my head through. I was right by the ground so it wasn't very likely that anybody watching would notice unless I put my head all the way through to the other side.

I was looking down a small hill to the side of a cottage. A nice clean affair, like the moderately-rich people tended to build as hunting cabins sometimes out around home. There were a couple vehicles in the driveway, one of which was an ugly, ancient, familiar van. And the guys getting out of the van were definitely not dwarves. They were way too reptilian for dwarves.

The yelling inside the house continued but I couldn't make out any words. Someone was just plain pissed and I was pretty sure I knew exactly who it was and why. I felt my stomach clench and I had an urge to throw up.

I quickly pulled myself backward, out of the hedge, and sat up. My heart was pounding like I'd just run a mile. I was playing Valerie's part. Janet Evanovich, you are cruel and evil and I hate you.

Okay, now, if I'm playing Valerie I should go down, grab the van, and hightail it back to Trenton. Except that I didn't know which way that was. But if I stayed here they might decide to fan out from the cabin and then they'd almost certainly find me…

And I didn't know when or even if help might come. Ranger was good, but did he know about the cabin? Fuck, why hadn't I said something? It could have just been a little mention. An eency weency little question about a rumor that Abruzzi had a cabin he used sometimes… No, no I had to do this on my own. Hide the fact you've gone mad, worry about relationship issues, avoid the case…. Well, fuck a duck. This sucked. However, acknowledging the sorry state of affairs wasn't going to change them.

I looked back at the hedge and ran my list of options through my head again. Go back into the forest, go take the van, go follow the road from a safe distance, or sit here and cower. I sighed heavily and put my head down, gathering my strength before I forced myself into a semi-standing position. God I was sore.

I was going to be living on pain pills for weeks. If I lived through the next twenty-four hours… I stopped that thought where it was. I didn't have time to worry about that now. I could worry about dying if it happened.

I turned and started walking, keeping my head down and my thoughts blank.


	36. Chapter 37

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 37

**_Disclaimer:_** Janet's plot was badly mauled but other than that nothing was hurt in the making of this fic. The universe belongs to Janet Evanovich. Alyssa doesn't. Hence, the mauling.

**_Note:_** Thanks everyone for all your kindness and all your feedback and in general being great audiences. There is one more chapter after this, which will probably be short and sappy. My apologies for the crappy fight/action scenes. I really have trouble doing them first person.  
_Allison:_ Thankyou! These are all excellent questions. Some of which may even get answered someday. lol.  
_stamper:_Wow, thank you! I'm glad you are enjoying it, and that this story stands out. Oh, she'll get him to dance, eventually.  
_Nathan'sRaven:_ I finally got the book this weekend. I loved Ranger... erm, I mean, I love the book... A bit much Morelli for me, but my Cupcake friend seemed to appreciate that.

**0000000000000000000000000000000**

I skirted the edge of the cabin's yard, staying well into the trees and keeping low. They could be coming out at any moment and I didn't feel like another flying run through the forest so it was best to stay hidden. Besides, I was weak. I was running on adrenaline and I didn't know how much longer that could last.

I was almost even with the side of the cabin when the hand settled on my shoulder. There was an ominous click like a gun being cocked. "Well, what do we have here?" muttered an unfamiliar male voice.

My blood froze.

"Ms. Plum, I presume?" the voice was disdainful and amused as a circle of cool metal pressed against my temple.

"Presume away." I swallowed hard, not daring to move.

"Boss wants to see you." The hand on my shoulder pushed me toward the edge of the woods. I guess I could have fought back, but I didn't know what would end up with the bullet in that cylinder NOT going through my brain.

So much for hiding until morning.

"Get going, Ms. Plum." The voice's tone was dark and spoke of Bad Things that Happen to Nice People. Probably the owner of the voice was one of those bad things.

"I'm going," I muttered, though I was dragging my feet a little.

The cabin loomed ahead. A cheery blue thing, edged with flowers and lacy curtains, cheerfully welcoming me in to die a horrific, lingering death. The gingerbread house all made over for modern times.

I was going to throw up. No, correction, if anything had been left in my stomach I would have thrown up. As it was my stomach roiled and twisted in new and agonizing ways. This wasn't good. This just wasn't good at all.

Think Alyssa, think! Come on, what would Mac do?

Inspiration struck in the form of another damned root as we were almost to the edge of the woods. I stumbled, and let myself fall forward, while twisting to the side and pulling my legs up in an almost-windmill. His step faltered as I connected with his legs and I kicked again, this time hitting him right around the knees and forcing him down.

He was falling and the light from the cabin was gleaming off the gun. I grabbed at it and got a hold on the barrel just in time to twist it as it went off with a small muffled sound. He had a silencer. That was cheating. But good cheating because it meant the other goons hadn't heard it even if I was pretty sure the bullet just cost me a lock of hair. If bullets did that sort of thing.

I kept my hold on the gun and pulled while I kicked out with my legs, aiming at his head. He had one hand on the gun but the other grabbed my ankle and twisted.

"_Bastard_!" I yelped, wiggling that leg and continuing to kick with the other, while I held onto the gun, trying to keep it pointed somewhere other than at me as it went off once more.

My left foot connected with his face and I heard a very unpleasant crunching noise followed by a howl of pain. Oh good, he made noise. The gun went off again. He needed to quit wasting bullets.

I kicked repeatedly, making sure to use my heel as Mac had instructed. A lifetime of being reminded to always point one's toes was hard to fight. The howling stopped. Aw, no more noise… Damn. I kicked the face once more for good measure. Nothing. Maybe he passed out. Definitely I was happy it was too dark to see what I had done. There had been too many crunching noises for my taste. I told myself it was probably just the leaves and twigs we were rolling around on.

I lay where I was, panting for breath, one ankle still held by Mr. Coma, one hand wrapped around the barrel of a gun, and my other leg resting on the head of Mr. Coma. Okay, check the gun. I had the gun. Guns had bullets. Bullets made bad people die. This was good for me.

I yanked the gun out of the guy's hand and sat up. Maybe he had extra bullets. He better after wasting so many shooting my hair, and then a couple innocent trees like that… I grimaced as I forced myself to pat him down. Vest, wallet, keys, knife… I pulled the knife and the keys and tucked them into my own pocket. In the end, I checked him thoroughly but I couldn't find any extra bullets. Cheap bastard.

Well, I had a knife and a gun with a silencer. I could have done worse.

I sat back on my heels and looked at the passed out guy. I should make sure he couldn't follow me. I should kill him.

Too bad I didn't want to waste a bullet… I should knife him, but I couldn't make myself do it. I just couldn't pull out the knife and sink it into him. Maybe Ranger was right. Maybe I better start working on my flower arrangements.

Damn it. I hated it when Ranger was right. Stupid commando bat monkey.

I poked the unconscious man again a couple times but he didn't move or moan. Maybe he'd have sense enough to get up and walk away when he woke up. His face looked funny… no, don't look at the face. Look at the cabin. The cabin is dangerous.

I turned my attention back to the cabin. Abruzzi had at least three more guys in there and he was still ranting. I bet he did that a lot. He struck me as a generally unhappy person. If I were a Napoleon-obsessed mafia boss with serious mental problems I probably would have been unhappy too.

I took a deep, cleansing breath. Time to go play peek-a-boo. I crept out of the forest, crouching lower and scuttling toward the wall of the happy little Cottage of Evil, while I tried to keep my eyes on the one lighted window near the edge. It was open and the lace curtains stirred faintly in the small breeze.

No one came into view as I moved across the yard but I was still shocked when I made it. Apparently they didn't feel it was necessary to post any other guards or anything. Of course they didn't. How else would Valerie have managed to get into the van? Abruzzi's guys were sure they hadn't been followed. They were at ease. They were sloppy.

If you are going to be a raving lunatic sociopath Underworld boss, don't be a sloppy one. Come on, you don't see Tony Soprano doing this shit.

I leaned against the wall and listened. Abruzzi was yelling about incompetent idiots but he wasn't suggesting anyone go look outside. Actually it sounded a lot like he was doing more than…

A scream of agony cut through the night, followed by a delighted chuckle. Oh holy hand grenades. Where's a rocket launcher when you need it?

He was torturing someone in there! Oh my god, what if they took Joe? Maybe he did have Valerie? Shit, why hadn't I checked on Valerie today?

I had so screwed up. My stomach twisted until I wondered if I was going to get an ulcer. God, I couldn't handle this. I was a college kid for crying out loud. I was supposed to be stressing over hellish tests and beer money and frat boys! What the hell was I doing here, outside a mob boss's country cottage listening to someone getting tortured?

I was going to hyperventilate. My breathing was getting ragged and too fast.. too fast.. too much…

What if it was Joe or Valerie in there? They didn't have a chance if I didn't do something. I stopped breathing and stared up at the little window, at the filmy lace with lovely floral designs moving with the wind, at the beams of lovely yellow light drifting through it and fading off into the inky night.

I was going to have to look. Oh, gods, I was going to have to look.

I could do this. I could. I had to. There wasn't a choice. I knew what blood looked like. I'd helped Dad with the farm work. Hell, I'd watched him slaughter a few deer, even. I could do this.

I swallowed hard and inched my way to the window, my heart drumming in my ears. I lifted my head slowly, forcing myself to do this. For Val. For Joe. For whatever poor idiot he had caught in there….

Through the delicate lace I could see the interior of what must have been the living room area. Wicker furniture, a large thug by the door, a pretty floral carpet with a growing bloodstain, a large man writhing on the carpet being held down by two more thugs, and a chubby suit-clad guy chuckling happily as he held what looked like a branding iron.

Well at least there wasn't anyone—oh, shit. There in the corner, huddled in a little ball was Valerie. She had her hands over her ears and was rocking back and forth. Janet never would make anything easy, would she?

"You disappointed me again, Remo. I warned you not to do that…" My attention jerked back to the jolly little sadist who had to be Abruzzi. He advanced on the bleeding guy with the branding iron. I pulled my head back down. I had helped with branding cattle too. I didn't want to see what branding a human looked like.

I looked down at the gun and flipped it up to check the chambers. I had just enough bullets for all of them. If I did anything, I couldn't miss.

I wasn't a good enough shot for that. Evelyn's face flashed through my mind. Screw it. Glory over length of days. I turned back and lifted my head back through the window. Remo was begging, a continuous stream of pained whimpers and half-intelligible pleas. Abruzzi taunted him with the poker, waving it an inch in front of the guy's eyes and cackling with glee.

I raised the gun and steadied it on the window sill. I took my time, kept my breathing even. Just a target. Back on the range with Mac… just a target… My heart was beating painfully against my ribs.

Abruzzi chose that moment to lower the poker and lay it against Remo's cheek. The man's scream shattered my concentration and my hands clenched without meaning to. The dull muffled shot sounded and Abruzzi staggered backward, a red stain blooming on his chest.

I stared, open mouthed for a half a second too long. The thug by the door looked right at me and raised his own weapon. I swung the gun toward him and fired wildly, before dropping away from the window and running toward the back of the cabin. I could hear yelling and the pounding of large feet as the thugs made for the door.

I rounded the corner and breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the back entrance. Thank the stars. I'd so have been screwed if I had to climb in a window…

I ran to it and tried the knob. Stuck. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. Please, don't let this be happening. I could hear the thugs out front, arguing about which way to go. I had to get in this door and I had to get in now, damn it!

I twisted the knob again, harder this time, and leaned my weight against it. I rocked back and thumped against it, not too hard because I didn't want to risk making much noise. The door popped inward as if it hadn't been stuck at all. I blinked in surprise, then eased it open just far enough for me to slip into the dark room and closed it again.

There was a doorway to my left, a bed in front of me. Why anyone had a bedroom with a door leading outside was beyond me, but then look who owned the place. At least, who I was assuming owned the place. It didn't matter anyway. What mattered was getting to the front room, making sure Abysmal was dead, getting Val and getting the hell out of Dodge. Somehow.

It sounded like the goons were doing a perimeter check. I had to move fast. Why the hell weren't they taking their boss to a freaking hospital? Cripes, send one goon with boss to a nice doctor, and the rest worry about the girl…

Someone was moving around in the living room. I could hear them, and a dull repetitive pounding sort of sound. Oh shit. He wasn't dead. Maybe he wasn't even badly hurt. That's why they weren't taking him to the doctor…

I tip-toed down the hallway, praying I wouldn't find too many creaky floorboards before I at least got a view of the front room. I held the gun up, elbows bent, aiming it at the ceiling. I'd seen cops on TV do it that way and holding it down didn't seem like a good idea. I stayed close to the right wall, until I got to the end. Another step and I'd be in the light.

I peeked around to check out the living room. Valerie was still huddled in the corner. Goon one was sprawled by the door. Abruzzi was… Oh. That's what the sound was.

Reptilicus, who Abruzzi had called Remo, was on his feet now, one of his hands bloody, a nasty burn blazing across his cheek, blood dripping from shallow cuts on his arms and torso. He was standing over Abruzzi, holding the branding iron in his one good hand,beating the motionless mob boss with it. Over and over, the rod making a dull thumping noise as it smacked into Abruzzi's fleshy body. I watched Remo for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

As much as I really didn't mind him continuing to pound his former boss into a pulp, I didn't want him pulping me or Valerie. I was probably supposed to shoot him, grab Val, and high tail it into the van, but I just couldn't.

"Remo?" I said quietly. "Remo?"

The poker slammed into Abruzzi's skull one more time before he turned to look at me. I shuddered at the look in his eyes. Gods, I didn't want to know what I'd missed during my run through the forest.

"You," said, his deep voice devoid of emotion.

"Do I need to shoot you?" I asked, without thinking.

He looked down at Abruzzi's bloody body. If he was alive after that last hit, he was a human potato. Remo's eyes glittered with something I was happy not to have a name for.

"No," he said and returned his gaze to me. "Thanks."

I swallowed and shook my head. "Sorry I didn't happen by sooner."

"I was supposed to deliver you," he said absently, as if this were only now occurring to him. I shrugged and gave him a wide berth as I walked around him to Valerie. I kept Remo in my line of vision and he watched me just as warily.

"Valerie!" I said, touching her shoulder. "Valerie, come on, we have to go."

"St-Stephanie?" she whimpered, finally opening her eyes.

"Yep. Come on, we have to go."

"They were—he was—" she looked up at Remo and shuddered. "You—you need a doctor."

"Yeah, Val. He needs a doctor. Come on, help me out." I pulled her up and looked at Remo.

"We need to go."

"I'll get the keys," he said, and walked to the door, swaying a little as he moved. I frowned. The guy who kidnapped me in the first freaking place is helping me get out? No way, this had to be wrong. Then I thought again about the poker swaying over Remo's face, about the screaming. I heard the goons outside, moving around the perimeter, closer to the back now. They'd find the other guy soon, probably.

Val was shaking as bad as I was. "They made me watch," she whispered. "They were going to do that to you and me…"

"I know Val. We have to get the van," I told her as I yanked her along. "We have to go or they'll come back."

That got her attention. I didn't have to pull her anymore as we scrambled into the van they'd kidnapped me in earlier. I heard someone yelling as we slammed the doors.

"Get down," Remo instructed. Val flattened herself to the floorboard automatically and I crouched down in front of the passenger seat, putting a bracing hand on the dash as Remo threw the old clunker into reverse and we flew backward amid a series of gunshots and the sound of breaking glass.

"Remo!" I yelled, worried that they might have hit him. I didn't care to be in a wild van with a dead driver.

"Fine,"I heard him growl,and I relaxed slightly.

"Head for Trenton!" I said as we slowed. He didn't reply but I hoped he heard me as we flipped around and bounced down the road.

When I was pretty sure I wouldn't hear any more gunshots, I struggled into the passenger seat and slumped back. Almost there. Now we just had to get to town and… Oh, that would be a problem.

I looked at Remo, bloody and burned and I swallowed hard. I didn't want him to go to jail. He'd kidnapped me, sure, but well, he was sort of a soldier thing, right? Orders were orders… And he killed Abruzzi. At least I hoped he killed Abruzzi. He helped us get away. Okay, he was helping himself too, but still. I didn't want him to go to jail even if he was a reptile. Reptilians were people too. Sort of.

I bit my lip and watched him carefully. I couldn't help thinking that being at Abruzzi's mercy was worse than getting stunned and intimately acquainted with the road system.

"You want me to drive?" I asked him.

"I'm good. I'll pull over if I need to."

"Why did you kidnap me?"

"Got hired. Boss said he wanted you. I got you." His eyes slid to me for a moment before he focused back on the road. "'Course, then you got away."

"I'm sorry he did that to you."

"Would have been you. And nobody would have shot him before he was through."

That was a good point.

"I don't want you to go to jail." I took a shaky breath, and looked down at the gun I was still holding like a security blanket. I didn't want him to go to jail. Abruzzi had just done worse than the prosecutor would ever be able to prescribe. "Is there somewhere you can get help?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I know some places."

I looked back at Valerie who was just now peeling herself off the floorboard. "Well, that takes care of you. Drop us off… drop us off at a filling station or something…"

"No good. They won't be far behind us."

"Ranger," I said sighing. "Drop us by the RangeMan offices if you can."

"No problem. You oughtta be pretty safe that way."

I laughed. "He's probably going to kill me, but yeah."

"Oh my god!" Val said, now sitting up and looking at me. "Do you know what the hell just—what I just—" she stopped and looked back at Remo. "What the hell kind of life do you lead, Stephanie?"

I sighed and gave a helpless shrug. I didn't have the energy to think about it. I didn't have the energy to think about anything. I'd worry about it tomorrow. Right now, Remo would drop us at the office, and I'd need to call… call someone. Ranger. Yeah, call Ranger…

"Remo, what do we tell the cops? I guess that he caught a ride with some guy in a truck… would that be good? The RangeMan office isn't far off that one highway…"

"35. We'll be on that. It works."

"Okay. We got a ride and he dropped us off there… Abruzzi was alive when we left. I shot him. We ran to the road. The guy picked us up. Nobody had a phone. We hightailed it back to base." I let out a long breath, putting my remaining energy into thinking up the story, adding some details in my head before I ducked back to sit next to Val.

"Listen to me, sis. This is really, really important…" I said as I set about pulling the masking tape of her wrists. I was pretty sure she hadn't even remembered it was there until I started pulling it off.

We spent the rest of the ride playing 'Let's say…' She seemed to find this less stressful than just sitting and thinking. I didn't blame her. She'd actually had to see what happened to Remo. I was trying not to imagine it.

For his part, Remo was silent, but I could tell the driving was putting a strain on him. His skin was getting a gray tinge, and his face was developing lines of stress. When we finally pulled to a stop a little way from the RangeMan offices I followed Val out then stopped by his window, waiting for it to roll down.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive? I could take you."

He gave me an unreadable look. "I'll be fine."

"Okay," I tried to smile but it just wouldn't happen. "Thanks. And be careful, okay? Good luck." I inclined my head and hurried after Val.

"You too," I heard just before the van shifted into gear.

Inside the office building almost all the lights were on and I could hear trucks and various vehicles in the parking garage as we got closer. I jumped as something grabbed my hand, and turned toward Val in shock. She shrugged a little.

"Thanks for getting me out of that."

"I was the reason they got you, Valerie. I really am sorry I didn't make it sooner. I didn't know they had you."

"Yeah, it was supposed to be a surprise to make you talk in case torturing you didn't work." I shuddered and squeezed Val's hand.

"It's all right. We're fine."

"You sound like your Dad," she said, laughing a little. I blinked. Right, of course.

"I'm glad I got you as a step-sister," I said, because I couldn't think of anything else to say and it was Valerie's turn to look shocked. "Want to go shopping tomorrow?"

"Sure. We can go back to Priscilla's."

"Deal," I grinned and pushed open the doors of the building.

It was my first good look at the lobby- last time I'd been ushered in by a phalanx of giants and swept up by an angry Bat Man. This time I got to be fully impressed by the cool stone, shiny metal, and clean lines. If a bank vault and an ultra-modern business firm cross-pollinated, this was what it would look like.

I stared around, having a hard time focusing suddenly. It was Val who pulled me now, straight to a desk where a security guard was eying us with polite alarm.

"We need to talk to Ranger," Val said. "Ranger Manoso… Or Jack Ryan."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Manoso is busy," said someone else, before the guard could speak. We turned to the apologetic voice to find an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and an athletic body only starting to go to seed. Considering he looked about 60 it didn't seem such a bad thing.

"I'm Louis Guzman," he said, extending his hand. "And you ladies are--?"

"I'm Valerie Plum, and this is my sister Stephanie."

Louis' eyes widened and his jaw dropped a little. "Forgive me. John, call Ella. Have her send up some dinner. Right this way, please," he said, gesturing toward the elevators even as he flipped open a cell phone and hit a couple numbers.

"They just walked in and they seem all right physically… Of course." And that was the end of the phone call. I could have bet large amounts of cash on the identity of the other person. Only one person in the world had phone skills like that.

We followed Louis onto the elevator and he put a key in and selected the 7th floor. I was going to say something when he cut me off. "Ranger will be here in ten minutes. Have you met my wife, Ella?"

"Umm… I don't think so, Mr. Guzman… maybe..." I frowned trying to remember. "Everything's a little fuzzy right now," I added truthfully. I was having a hard time thinking suddenly. Nothing would arrange itself in my head the right way, it just seemed like a jumbled mess of noise and blurred colors. He nodded in understanding and looked closely at Val and I realized with a start that we were still holding hands. Oh well, I didn't care. Apparently neither did Val.

Louis ushered us off the elevator and into the suite and Val and I finally separated as she took in the magnificent view from the open window. I had to admit it was pretty awesome, and I didn't even like cityscapes. While Val wandered toward the window to admire, I flopped onto the sofa and wondered if I'd ever be able to get out of it, and furthermore if I would ever want to.

"Wow, Steph. Come look at this!"

"I've seen it," I sighed. Well, I had, more or less. Without waiting for a reply or for permission from Louis I headed for the bathroom to answer the call of nature.

Once nature was done with me I bit the bullet and took a look in the mirror. I nearly screamed. There were murder victims that looked better than me. My hair was a mess. I had scratches along the left side of my face, blood on my nose and chin. I looked back down at my torn, bloody clothing in despair before deciding I could at least attempt a clean up.

I was intensely glad Ranger had black towels. Maybe there really was a reason for all the black after all. It didn't show blood as much. That was a sobering thought, as if tonight needed any more sobering. What tonight really needed was a fifth of tequila, a truckload of Capt. Morgan, and some Jagermeister. Maybe even a few TK's and AKL's to liven up the party.

Several minutes later I had worked a most of the tangles, leaves, sticks, and snarls out of my hair and gotten most of the blood off my face. Now I looked like I'd just been in a bar brawl but that was still an improvement. As good as it was going to get. I wandered back to the front room in time to face a violently curious Val.

"You've been here before?" she demanded.

"Yeah." _Uh-oh…_

"At night?"

"Umm…" I looked at Louis for help. He looked amused. I rolled my eyes and gave up. "Yeah."

"You've been here, at night, with Ranger and you didn't tell me?"

"Um." Yeah, I was all about the eloquence.

"I can't believe—" A knock on the door silenced her and we both turned to watch as Louis held the door open for a pretty gray-haired lady in black, pushing a cart of what had to be the officially best-smelling food ever created.

My love for Ella increased by lots of big mathematical terms as Val's train of thought almost visibly derailed. I followed her look of mouth-watering lust and felt my own thoughts hit the skids.

Cheesecake. There was cheesecake on that tray.

"Hello, girls," Ella said cheerfully, grinning as she caught us salivating over the cheesecake. "I thought this might come in handy."

She was setting the table. Why was she setting the table? We had hands. There were trays. Oh yeah, civilized. We were supposed to be civilized. Stupid concept. I sighed and resigned myself to the plight of the civilized world as Val and I sat ourselves down at the table.

I then watched in disbelief as Val actually took meat and a few other non-cheesecake dishes while her eyes barely ever left the actual cheesecake. I blinked. Nope, she was still eating a main course. I looked at the main courses and selected my own. I guessed civilization would have to win tonight.

Ella and Louis joined us at the table but said they'd already eaten. It struck me as odd until I realized it was probably really late. Or maybe it wasn't. Time had sort of had it's own speeds recently. Too fast, too slow, nonexistent…

"What time is it?" I asked. I thought it might have been sixish when Morelli had shown up at the apartment and I was pretty sure a whole day hadn't passed, but other than that I really had no clue.

"Ten-thirty," Louis said with a quick check of his watch.

Four hours. Four hours and it felt like four years. I blinked and looked down at my plate. Screw civilization, I was taking that cheesecake now. But even as I looked at it, the predatory gleam faded out of me. Cheesecake wasn't going to make it better.

Whatever 'it' was.

I sighed and wished everyone would go away so I could cry. Instead Ella jumped up and got something off the cart.

"I almost forgot about this!" she laughed, walking back over with a thermos and some mugs. "Anybody want some hot chocolate and marshmallows?"

I grinned, and I blinked the stinging out of my eyes. Dobby had nothing on Ella. I loved Ella.

I told her so emphatically. This brought a chuckle from Louis and an even brighter smile from my new true love herself.

"You've got another one," Louis said, smiling.

"Oh heavens, it's only hot chocolate."

I shook my head but didn't try to explain it as she poured out a steaming cup of hot cocoa salvation and set down the bowl of marshmallows. "Thank you."

I curled up in the seat and huddled down to enjoy my treat, the rest of the universe fading into chocolate-coated inconsequence.

Ella and Val discussed meals and baking and running a home and whatnot. Louis seemed happy to sip his chocolate and listen. I listened a little, but my thoughts drifted back to Remo and then to Joe, finally to Ranger. I kept thinking he was going to be mad. Really, really mad. He should be mad. I just couldn't think of why.

I hoped Joe wouldn't yell. I hoped Ranger didn't yell, either. I was pretty sure I'd have a total melt-down. I took a sip of the chocolate to stop myself from thinking about it.

The sound of the door opening jolted me back into real time and I felt my spine stiffen, my head jerking toward the sound.

Male voices drifted in, and their owners stepped into view. Ranger and Mac came first, tricked out in full SWAT mode, followed by Tank, Jack and Hector, who were equally armed to the teeth, and then Joe, still in his plainclothes, but he had his gun.

I cringed and stayed put, squashing down my sudden urge to tackle Ranger. Joe too, because I was truly relieved he was okay. Instead I stayed frozen, waiting for the tirade. Someone was going to yell, I just knew it. I didn't want to hug one of them and then get yelled at.

There was a moment when everybody seemed just as frozen as I was, then Ranger's eyes caught mine and held for a moment.

"Where is he?" Jack asked. I tore my eyes from Ranger and looked at Jack. His green eyes were worried and there was definitely some anger in his pose. They were all hyped on adrenaline, I realized. They were ready for someone to go down. In a very painful way.

"I think he's dead." _Crap, there went my mouth again.._. "We were in a cabin in Pennsylvania. Um, I mean, yeah, Pennsylvania. Not that I knew that at first or anything, being in the van and stuff and then I was in the woods because I rolled out of the van but then I ended up at the cabin and the guy had a gun so I fought him and I kicked him in the face and he quit making noise so I took the gun and I shot him. AbruzziImean. I shot him, and then--" I stopped to take a breath and was surprised to find Ranger kneeling by me.

Gently he took the mug out of my hands to set it on the table. "Slow down, Babe. Start at the beginning."

I bit my lip and looked down at him, suddenly uneasy. "You're going to be mad."

"I won't be mad at you," he said quietly. "What happened?"

I looked at him for a moment then looked up at the others. Joe was just behind Ranger, looking uncertain of whether to stay where he was or push Ranger out of the way. Mac was looking unreadable. Hector looked like he was itching to be told who to punch. Tank was joining Mac in the I-am-the-stone look. Jack was talking quietly to Val.

Hm, looked like she was doing pretty good with him. Too bad, I could really have liked Jack. Then again, I had enough guys on my plate and Jack was the kind of guy maybe you should be serious about. Speaking of which...

I sighed and focused back on Ranger's black eyes. Probably you should be serious about 'forever' too... "They hit me with something, like a tranq dart or whatever…" and the entire story spilled out. I barely managed to get control in time to give the cop-safe version of the get away.

When I was through Ranger was giving me an odd look. I lifted my eyes to Joe and he smiled reassuringly. Good, as long as he bought it. I could tell the actual events to Ranger some other time.

Ranger stood up, blocking my view of Morelli and I caught his hand. The last thing I needed was for him to do something stupid like misinterpret a look. Monkeys tended to be weird like that.

His eyes clouded for a moment, and he gave me a look that let me know somehow I better be ready to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth later. I squeezed his hand and let it drop. He smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "Proud of you, Babe." Then he turned to Ella. "Can you take care of her?"

At Ella's nod, he led the rest of the Justice League back out. Joe stayed to give me a kiss on the cheek. "I was worried about you."

"Thanks." I smiled, and he looked torn. "Better go make sure Ranger isn't planning anything illegal," I advised to stop him from doing something stupid like kissing me. I was pretty sure I wouldn't have had the will power to push him away and Ella would probably have poisoned my hot chocolate.

I watched Joe leave and then poured myself another hot chocolate.

"No more, young lady. We're taking you down to third floor," Ella announced. I stared at her. "I need to look at those cuts on your arms and legs. And I don't want to think what your ribcage must look like…"

I let her whisk me down to the 'infirmary' and begin inspecting me. Infirmary? What kind of office building had an infirmary? Did I even want to know? Nope, right, I didn't. However, I did get to find out that Ella served as part-time nurse and full-time housekeeper. She liked Ranger and thought he was lonely. She seemed to think I was going to fix that.

I nodded and encouraged her to keep talking. I guessed I would be fixing that loneliness bit, what with being a permanent fixture of the Bat Cave now and all. But I wanted to know more about… other stuff. She told me about her cousin hooking her up with the Bulgari. I noticed she really was making sure to point out lots of Ranger's good qualities.

The lady could sell, I gave her that.

"Ella, stop it," I sighed after a while as she was cleaning up some of the scrapes on my legs. "I'm already sold. I love him already. You're going to force me to put him on a pedestal."

She laughed but her eyes were needle sharp. "Do you?"

"Yeah. He's a good guy." And I did love him. That didn't worry me. What worried me was how much. What worried me was 'forever'. I was much happier when I had firm dates. How long was forever?

"Good." Ella smiled and went back to her work.

"You're really good at this," I said to change the subject.

"I should be. You wouldn't believe the kind of injuries those boys get."

It seemed like it took hours for her to go over the worst scrapes with bandages. I was beginning to feel and look like a mummy when she was through because my entire right leg was one big case of road rash and most of that arm and side. I had bruises on bruises and my entire body was turning various shades of unnatural colors.

Added onto it, the adrenaline had died off and I was feeling empty and drained. There were no more worries. Just bed and sleep… I relaxed slowly, smiling at the prospect.

Abruzzi's eyes looked into mine, and the red spot on his shirt got bigger. Remo screamed. There was a sizzling sound and the smell of burnt meat. I hadn't noticed it, had I? I'd been too focused on the stupid gun. Why hadn't I noticed it?

It could have been Valerie. It could have been me.

The man hadn't moved… I killed three people in one night. Three people. I was a serial killer. The thug looked at me, his eyes narrowing as he slid the gun out of his holster. Someone was pulling my ankle… pulling me down… kick them, kick with the heel...

I couldn't breathe. I was missing something. Not noticing… damn it, where was that gun, I just had it… I choked back a sob.

Everything was moving and it wouldn't stay put. There was a blurry lady-shape talking.

"Mama?" I asked, drawling it the way I'd used to whenever I stayed in Oklahoma with Grandmary.

"No, honey, I'm Ella…" she was holding a cell phone.

I shivered and pulled the blanket around me tighter. Blanket? Where'd I get a blanket? And I needed the gun…

I just had the gun… I just killed somebody with it. Two bodies.

"Have you seen the gun?" I asked the Ella-blur. She kept going side to side with everything else. No fair, I wasn't going side to side.

"Grandmary, you need to stop moving." No, wait, not grandmary. Ella. Ella with hot chocolate… "And marshmallows…" I murmured.

Do you get marshmallows when you kill people? Now that hurt. I blinked back tears and closed my eyes to shut out the stupid blurry world.

Where'd my gun go again?

Someone was screaming and the meat was burning… A bumblebee must have stung my arm...

I looked up wondering where the bumblebee went. If it stung me it died too. I didn't want it to die too.

I didn't see a bumblebee. I saw Tank. He was holding me still. Ella was putting something away.

"Did I kill the bumblebee, Tank?" My voice shook because I was trying not to cry. I cried too much lately.

"No. No, it's fine," he said gruffly. His voice sounded odd. I tilted my head and stared at him but his face didn't hold my attention, I looked down, still wondering where the bee went.

"Can I go home soon? I miss Chelsea and Renee."

"Sure, angel."

I yawned and wondered why my eyes were so heavy. "You're nice," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. "You're the nicest killer teddy bear ever."

I closed my eyes and listened to see if he had a heartbeat. Yep, heartbeat. He had a heartbeat. I had a heartbeat… the world had a heartbeat…

Or was that a front porch…


	37. Chapter 38 The End

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 38, Epilogue

_Disclaimer:_ Janet's plot has been most thoroughly mauled. But the characters are still essentially hers except of course for Alyssa.

_Note:_ This may get a little mushy. I tried to keep it under control, but even I can get a little sappy sometimes. I'm not totally happy with this, but I think it works. Anyway, this is it. The end of the story... if you want me to post the sequel, or not- tell me, okay? As for the epilogue(s): if you take them seriously I will have no choice but to aim a rocketlauncher at you.

Thanks to all of you for being so great and for all the wonderful feedback!

_Nathan'sRaven:_ Thank you so much, I hope you like this ending. I do have the sequel started, but I'm not sure if I ought to post it here or not. I agree with your assessment- TMM in Eleven, but it is still an improvement. And thanks again, for all the encouragement.

_Allison:_ Hope this was soon enough, and thank you!

**000000000000000000000000000**

I yawned and rolled my shoulders before looking back down at my notebook and hurriedly scribbling another note. I should know better than to party like that when I had this fraggin' class this early…

I was back at school, sitting in the front row of Intro to Philosophy, drowning in the smell of Dr. Fielding's pipe smoke and the faint notes of Tommy cologne on the guy next to me.

I was wearing my favorite LEI's, the ones with the brown tinge and the embroidery on the back pockets that made my butt look awesome and my favorite blue camisole. The outfit had definitely attracted the Tommy guy's attention and he kept glancing my way when he thought I didn't notice. I sighed and tried to remember his name. Daniel? David? How was I supposed to remember names, there were so many of them and only one of me…

Stop it, Lyss. You need to pay attention in here or you're totally going to flunk. Yeah, and if I keep partying and having weird ass dreams about clearly fictional universes and falling in love with a guy too perfect to exist I'll have bigger things to worry about than flunking Philosophy…

Dr. Fielding was droning on about some principal of something or other, and if Capt. Kirke beamed down and the beam hit a nebula cloud and split in two so you had two Kirkes which was the real one?

I sighed and took my notes. Two William Shatners? I was going to have nightmares for months. Then Tommy Boy asked some question about reality. We had just covered that stuff hadn't we? I flipped back a page. Why did people ask questions in here? Dear gods, why? Wasn't it bad enough getting an overview? Why in the hell would you want to go back and rehash it? I was feeling the beginning of my thrice-weekly Philosophy-induced headache.

Dr. Fielding launched off on another line of theory. I tried to take notes and not think too much. I wasn't good with philosophy- this was Chelsea's fascination not mine. Intellectual hedonism was my idea of deep thought.

"Let us say," Dr. Fielding's voice boomed out across the small classroom, "that you were in a terrible accident, or maybe you had some sort of disease that left you completely paralyzed, on life support, unable to move or speak but your mind is untouched. Your brain is the only thing completely untouched. Now your parents are approached by a new software company. They can hook your brain into a computer and create an entire virtual universe for you. You will touch, taste, feel… As far as you're concerned it will be entirely real. But is it?"

I froze, seeing again the flash of institutional green paint on the stairwell, feeling the sick sensation of falling without a hope of catching hold of anything. I could hear Chelsea yelling, or maybe Renee…

As I stared in horror, a round dot of red appeared in the middle of Dr. Fielding's chest, and he turned to me accusingly, his pointer suddenly glowing red on the end. The jock by the door stood up and reached for something in his letterman's jacket. Without thinking I raised my pencil, except it wasn't a pencil now. I was holding a gun. A gun with a silencer…

_Oh, I wondered where that went… _

A soft sound made me open my eyes and I blinked up at a white ceiling. I turned my head and found myself looking up at a… a really, really hot guy. His skin was mocha and his eyes were the color of midnight, except not that blue midnight, the real midnight. The black midnight that's made for stepping in between worlds and dancing under the stars.

"Easy, Babe," he said softly, touching my cheek with a gentle but kind of calloused hand.

I sighed and felt my eyes closing again. "Wrong girl, Ranger…"

And the dark midnight pulled me back. Worry about it tomorrow, the blackness urged. Now was the time to rest. I drifted in the dark, watching the lights behind my eyes make pretty shapes. _To sleep, perchance to dream… _you were so smart, Will Shakespeare. You probably talked a lot, too.

Voices drifted through the darkness sometimes. A few of them I thought I knew, some of them I even had the edge of a name to put to them, but most of them were as unfamiliar as the breeze. Most of the time they spoke English, but there were times when the rhythm and softer syllables of Spanish washed over me. It sounded so pretty, but I couldn't catch all the words and usually I only heard small parts of sentences before I gave up and drifted away again.

It was the Spanish that finally caught my attention, though. I'd been having a lovely dream about flying horses and pink fluffy clouds and crystal castles when the Spanish showed up. And it was asking me something and… and… hey, I knew that voice. I turned away from Star Prancer, the metallic teal flying horse, tilting my head to listen.

"Por favor, bebe, despierte. Le necesito.. tu risa, y tu amor." The whispered request hit me with the force of a MAC truck, and fairly knocked me out of the dark. I wondered if a MAC really had been involved for a moment as I adjusted to the feeling of dull, throbbing aches all over my body. Gods, if this were just the beginning, did I really want to open my—

"Moonbeam, wake up."

Oh, that did it. I felt like I was clawing up from the depths as I forced myself to wake up completely. Nobody was going to use that… My eyes wouldn't open and when they finally did I was staring at a mocha colored blur, tinged with black. For a crazy moment I couldn't for the life of me think where I was.

"How did—Where—Ranger?" My throat hurt and my voice came out as a croak.

"Easy," he said, bending to kiss my cheek.

"You called me that name," I said, ignoring the pain in my throat. Everywhere else was throbbing, it could join the club.

"Thought that might get your attention," he didn't look at all sorry about it, either. Grr.

I opened my mouth to tell him off but the arrival of a harried nurse and lovely woman in a white lab coat distracted me. Dr. Doolittle, her nametag said.

Oh, cripes. I wasn't even going there.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as the nurse handed me a glass of water and a small cup containing a pretty blue pill.

"Fine," I smiled, "bordering on chipper, and tomorrow planning on being obnoxious."

"That's good," she said with an answering smile. "I just need to check you over, and we'll see about getting you out of here."

I saw Ranger slip out the door and sighed. _Out of here to where, Doc? That was the question._ Not wanting to ask, I took the pill and settled in to wait for her to check my charts.

An eternity and a half later, Dr. Doolittle said I seemed to be doing very well and wrote me out a script for some more pain medications along with some other junk. The pretty blue pill, being a pain pill, was working its way through my system by that time and I was finding it harder to concentrate.

Apparently I had been out for a couple days and I was probably going to need at least a couple weeks for recovery, maybe longer. She advised me to avoid stress for a little while and to maybe consider some counseling. Yeah, and if I didn't Ranger could always lock me in Jack's office.

Ranger had reappeared at some point, holding a bag that I guessed held some of my clothes. I had made it to the point of sitting up on the edge of the bed, but actually standing up seemed like just too much to ask.

"Come on, Babe," he said, offering me a hand. I took it, reluctantly, and stood up as slowly as I could. Okay, that wasn't so bad.

Then I took a step. Big, big mistake. I whimpered and felt my knees buckling as my head started to swim. I was dimly aware that my body was in pain but I didn't really seem to care. It was weird.

Ranger caught my arms and steadied me until I got back in control, then helped me to get dressed. For probably the third time in my life I felt self-conscious about my body. "Hey, um, I could do this myself," I said, as the hospital gown started to slide down my arms.

"It'll be easier if I help."

"Can you turn the lights off then or something? I'm kind of tired of you seeing me naked and funny colors."

Ranger grinned. "I'll take you naked in any color you want."

I thought about that. Hoped he liked 'blushing beet red.' Judging from the wolf-y look it was a yes. "I look like a mummy," I tried again, with a disgruntled look down at my bandaged midsection, legs, and arms for emphasis.

"All the better to unwrap you." And we both laughed.

The wolf look disappeared as he helped me on with my shirt and his hands brushed over the bandages on my sides. His eyes went down, following the curve of my hip where it was covered over with bandages, bruises, and scrapes, and I watched the muscle in his jaw tighten.

"It's a good thing Abruzzi's already dead." His voice was rough; I could hear the anger. He lifted those burning dark eyes to meet mine and touched my cheek. Unconsciously I leaned into his hand. I decided to stay quiet for a change as his gaze held mine, with a meaningful look I didn't understand. I really wished I could have ESP too.

He didn't say anything else as he helped me on with a pair of unbelievably soft brushed cotton draw-string pants and flip flops.

We might have stayed quiet forever, except that I happened to realize the clothes I was wearing weren't ones I had seen before, and they looked really new. White, light cotton pants and shirt… flip flops… I looked like an ad for the Bahamas. "Ranger, whose clothes are these?"

"Yours."

"They're new."

"Thought you might like something that fit." I blinked at that and took a moment to process it.

"Thanks, Higgs." It seemed the only thing to say, really. Anything else sounded ungrateful. Or worse, mushy. Mushy and pretty blue pills probably didn't mix.

He smiled and held the door open. "You're welcome, Babe. Always."

I stepped out the door, suddenly transfixed by the way the cotton moved with me. It drifted sort of, and looked all breezy… the flip-flops made fun noises, too. And I never noticed tile was so pretty and shiny…

"Hey, Moonbeam," said a deep gravelly voice. "Feeling better?"

"Tank!" I looked up to find him across the hall, along with Lester. "Hey, I—" wait, something isn't right here… "Moonbeam? Did you just call me…? Ranger!" I whined.

I heard the bat chuckle. "It's on your papers."

"They never… You never… " I was stunned into almost speechlessness.

"Aw, come on. It's cute." Lester was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Cute?" I glared at him. "Cute!" He was cute. Ranger was cute. Maybe I was cute. But 'Moonbeam' was not the right kind of cute, damn it.

"You know giving them a reaction like that is just going to make it worse," Ranger advised. Damn it, he needed to quit being right. Change of tactics… I shot him my best wide-eyed Bambi look. Look, I'm little and helpless, make the big thugs behave. He shook his head.

"She's good," Lester chortled. "Careful, Ranger."

"Can someone please take me home?" I sighed, giving up.

"Sure thing, angel," Tank said. "We'll grab some dinner on our way. Les can take care of getting your drugs."

"We're going to Wayne Manor?" I tried not to look too shocked.

"You said home didn't you?" Les said, giving his own innocent look. Damn he was even better at that than I was.

I considered my options. I could pitch a fit because I was getting herded into the Bat Cave to enjoy a two week recovery period in a huge, gorgeous house with huge, gorgeous guys and thus retain my self-respect and independence. Uh-huh. Right. Like I'd respect myself if I didn't go. And seeing what life was like with these guys would be a hell of a lot more fun than a dorm-like apartment and a hamster.

"All right, let's go home, guys. Food sounds great."

Oh yeah, I needed to ask about what happened with the Abruzzi deal and tell everybody about Remo and ask about Val and call my parents… but I'd worry about that tomorrow. I was taking tonight to enjoy the MIBs, some dinner, and Vicadin.

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Epilogue/ Possible Explanation 

_NOTE: This came up because apparently, hacking into Janet's computer has become a very, very tempting idea to some of us. Accept this ending or not, it was just a fluffy idea that I thought would be fun to tack on. Actually, someone suggested it's actually the explanation for Metro Girl, but I'll let you judge that. _

Janet Evanovich stared at her computer screen, puzzled. She looked back at the outline she'd written on the pad of note paper, flipped through all the ideas she'd jotted down over the last ten books.

She looked back at the computer screen.

That was definitely not the way she'd intended the story to go. It was close, but it wasn't what she had planned. In fact, the narrative didn't even sound like Stephanie's voice. She sighed and cut the offending chunks of text, then pasted them into the Other file. The Other file that seemed to get bigger with every book. In fact it was beginning to resemble a book on its own. Several of them in fact, since there was an Other file for books eight, nine, and ten. Files that read almost like they were their own books. An entire alternate Plum universe no one but she and Alex would ever see. Janet shook her head sadly. She was even beginning to get an image of the Other Stephanie, imagine an entirely unique voice for that Other character who seemed to be trying to creep into her real plotlines more and more often. Idly she wondered whether her editors would go for the idea of reworking the Stephanie books.

Maybe she'd just been working on this series too long.

Maybe it was time for to start some other project.

With a last regretful sigh, she saved both files and closed out her word processor. She'd worry about it tomorrow. Right now there was a bag of cheez doodles calling her name.


End file.
